


Moonlight and Shadow

by Kerichi



Series: Tonks and Remus Tales [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fun with Fred and George, Romance, Sirius frustration, Snarky Snape, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 119,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerichi/pseuds/Kerichi
Summary: The wizarding world has fallen into shadow. Voldemort has returned, the Order of the Phoenix has risen, and Sirius is slowly drowning in memories and Firewhisky. Tonks needs more than determination to fight the darkness. She needs Remus.





	1. House of Shadow

 

The moment I entered the home on Privet Drive, it was as though the ghost of a star-struck schoolgirl took possession of my body. I immediately reverted to the teenage habit of stumbling when excited, knocking something off the kitchen wall.

I said, " _Reparo,"_ and lit my wand to see what I had broken. It was a commemorative plate of Prince Charles and Princess Diana's wedding. I hung it back next to a calendar depicting Balmoral Castle in August, rolling my eyes as I muttered, "Wonder if there's a plate to commemorate their separation?"

A hand patted my arm. It was Emmeline. "Douse the light, dear."

I extinguished the glow, although I was tempted to ask why we were standing in the dark when the Dursleys were out. Didn't make sense to me—wouldn't Harry be less nervous if he could see us plainly?

The boy we had come to escort to Headquarters heard the noise and came down to investigate. Harry paused on the stairway, his glowing wand outstretched. I listened to Mad-Eye and Remus try to reassure him before I finally asked the question I had been thinking and cast a  _Lumos_ spell.

Harry Potter looked just like I thought he would.

The second I gushed that out loud like a fan spotting a film star,  _The Boy Who Lived_ looked directly at me. I put a hand on Remus's back to steady myself while I called, “Wotcher.”

Remus tossed an amused glance over his shoulder at my eager tone. Merlin only knew what he thought when I bragged about luring the Dursleys out of the house and then made a point of not wanting anyone to call me Nymphadora during introductions.

I hoped he understood I just didn't want anyone but  _him_ calling me that.

Remus began to introduce the rest of the Advance Guard. I stayed quiet, determined not to draw undue attention to myself.

My resolve broke faster than a New Year's resolution. While Emmeline, Sturgis, and Hestia were content to watch in silence, I commented on the kitchen's spotlessness, Mad-Eye's disgusting habit of popping out his eye, and volunteered to help Harry pack.

I gazed back at Remus before I followed Harry up the stairs. He winked.

Upstairs, Harry threw me a disbelieving look when I said his room was better than the unnatural cleanliness of the rest of the house. I watched him silently begin to toss books into his trunk and bit my lip. He certainly wasn't the chatty type.

Shamelessly, I resorted to showing off my morphing to gain his interest. Green eyes lit up when I changed my hair from violet to pink.

The enthusiasm he showed about my being a Metamorphmagus and Auror vanished, however, when I mentioned his scar. He looked away. I wanted to slam my forehead against the wardrobe door. Bugger it! Why did I have to open mouth and insert foot when I was trying to make a good impression?

I attempted to cover awkward silence with cheerful patter and was partly successful. Harry's expression thawed from wariness to reserve.

Downstairs, I kept up the cheery act. Inwardly, I was disappointed Harry hadn't taken to me the way most kids did, but I didn't let it show.

The flight back to London was uneventful, though Mad-Eye's paranoid desire to fly through rain clouds and double back to ensure we weren't being followed got my dander up.

By the time Remus and I carried Harry's trunk into Headquarters, I was cold, in a nark and wanted nothing more than a cup of coffee. I headed straight for the basement kitchen, grabbing the largest mug available before making a beeline for the coffee urn.

A heartbeat after I sat down in my usual place, the malevolent bat perched next to me said, "This is not Hogwarts, Miss Tonks. There are no assigned seats."

I shot back, "Youngest member sits in the worst spot."

He looked down his long nose at me. "You sound  _disenchanted._ Did your meeting not live up to girlish expectation?"

I wordlessly displayed a two-fingered salute. Snape's gaze narrowed, and then his lips twitched. I asked suspiciously, "Can you perform wandless Legilimency?"

Stygian eyes gleamed. "Yes."

I slumped over my coffee. "Fabulous."

Snape made a weird huffing noise.

I got snippy. "Harry may find me annoying, but he hates you."

"Yes, but  _you_  wish to be liked."

I caught the implication that Snape didn't give a toss for Harry's good opinion. Since I did, I ignored the bat, smiling when Arthur sat beside me and asked, "Tell me, was the home filled with Muggle labour-saving devices, and did you have a chance to examine the microwave?"

"It was and I did." Well, Kingsley and Sturgis had played with it, but I had seen them doing it.

"Can you tell me anything about how it works?"

"I know one thing." I paused when Arthur held up a hand and withdrew a quill and notebook from his robe pocket. He gestured his readiness. I said, "If you turn the microwave on without anything inside, it overheats and dies."

" _Really?"_ Arthur scratched furiously on parchment.

"Yeah," I answered. "I reckon Mrs. Dursley's going to throw a bigger fit over that than when she discovered there was no 'All England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition.'"

Arthur chuckled. Beside him, Molly smiled, even as she scolded, "Shhh! The meeting is about to start!"

The Order meeting was productive, but it seemed the uproar caused when I tripped over the umbrella stand after saying goodbye to Emmeline was an omen. The dinner that followed ended in discord.

I agreed with Molly and Remus that Harry wasn't old enough to join the Order and shouldn't be given too much information, due to the dangers involved, but I understood Sirius's point too. Harry Potter was  _not_  an average fifteen-year-old boy. He shouldn't be treated like one.

After Molly ordered Harry, Fred, George, Ron and Hermione up to bed, Sirius reached for a bottle of beer. He took a long pull. "No offence, Arthur, but your wife rivals the  _Prophet."_

"How do you mean?" Arthur frowned.

"What those articles do to Harry, make him out to be a deluded joke, she's doing to me."

"Now, Sirius," Remus began.

"I'm being dead honest," Sirius cut in. "Telling Harry I've lost my grip and think he's James, that I'm rash and irresponsible. Molly's constantly arguing and purposely undermining my position as Harry's godfather."

Remus shook his head. "Why would she do that?"

"Because she's jealous!"

Arthur said, "Of course she's jealous." When everyone stared, he smiled wearily. "It's only natural. We've regarded Harry as another son, tried to look out for him as best we could. That you are the person he turns to for guidance, Sirius, yours the opinion he values most, well, I defy any parent worthy of the name  _not_  to feel envy."

Sirius stood, the anger drained out of his face. "I want what's best for him, too, Arthur, and I'm well aware I wasn't any use in Azkaban." He exhaled heavily. "I'm not trying to take anyone's place in Harry's life. I just want to be the godfather I've never had the chance to be before."

I watched him stride across the room. "Where are you going?" I asked.

"To walk the dog," he replied without turning around.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Dumbledore said you should remain in this house."

Sirius opened the door, half-turning to say, "When Dumbledore clears Cami to visit, I'll be a good boy and stay home." He smiled grimly. "Until then, I'll continue to be a bad doggy."

After Sirius left, Arthur said, "This Cami person—"

"Camillia Llewellyn, a friend of mine. She met Sirius when he was Snuffles." I shrugged. "She's a dog lover."

Arthur smiled a little. "Is there a reason she has not joined the Order?"

I looked at Remus. He said, "Cami is a recovering alcoholic."

Silence fell. I broke it, asking, "Anyone want another cup of coffee?"

"No, thank you, I shall find it hard to sleep as it is without caffeine keeping me awake," said Arthur.

I looked around at all the dirty dishes. Growing up, Mum cooked and Dad did the dishes. So far at Grimmauld, Molly had insisted on doing both. I wanted to change that, but when I told Harry I wasn't the best at householdy spells, I'd left out why. I hated cleaning.

My gaze fell on Remus. He always lent a hand, which made cleaning less of a chore. I asked, "Will you help me do the washing up?"

He smiled and lifted his wand.

Molly met us in the main hallway as we made to leave. "I didn't trust the boys to go to sleep as they ought," she said. "They settle down better if I make them worry I might burst in and give them a blistering scold." She smiled wryly. "Scolds are my speciality."

I said, "I think cookery is. Dinner was wonderful, and I can't imagine how you conjured so well in that dungeon of a kitchen."

"The stew was delicious, Molly," Remus added.

"For heaven's sake, it's the simplest conjuring for anyone with coordination." Molly patted my arm and said briskly, "Don't worry, dear, I'll show you a few tricks next time."

"Ta, Thanks," I said laughingly.

"Yes, thank you again for sharing your gift of hospitality," said Remus.

Molly waved a hand in a shooing motion. "Go on with you both!"

Outside, I asked Remus, "Come back to my place?" We had been lovers for weeks, rarely spending the night apart since Sirius asked for Remus's help to alert the old crowd, but I never wanted to take Remus's love for granted.

"Are you sure you're not tired?"

I gave him a cheeky smile. "Young people have loads of energy."

"Is that so?"

I nodded. "Enough to give a back massage."

Beneath the torchlight, Remus's eyes gleamed amber. "Then by all means, let's go." 

 

 

 Once we stepped out of the shower, Remus said, "It's getting late. We can do the massage some other night."

"Loads of energy, remember?" I wrapped a fluffy towel around myself.

He lay stomach-down on the bed and turned his head to the side, watching as I lit a few candles around the room and dimmed the illumination orbs. "Shouldn't I do that?" he asked, when I warmed some oil in my hands and began to rub my arms and shoulders.

I used my fingertips to work the tendons at the back of my neck. "I'm preparing my fingers for the real fun—you."

After massaging my temples and jaw, releasing one kind of tension while heightening another, I moved to the bed.

I began by using the flat part of my palm to spread oil over his back in smooth, wide strokes. He made a growl-y noise of contentment. I kept my motions sensual and slow, enjoying the warmth of his skin beneath my fingers.

"Smells good," mumbled Remus, as I placed my hands on either side of his spine and gently rubbed down the length of his back.

I admired the way the breadth of his shoulders tapered down to his waist. Everything about him was firm and sexy.

I massaged my way up his sides, rubbed downward, and repeated the motion several times, feeling muscles relax beneath my hands. "It's almond oil," I said, bending down to nibble his earlobe. "Completely edible."

I smiled when his body tensed. "Look at these shoulders." I tsked playfully, using the fleshy part of my thumbs to push across the shoulder blades before concentrating on tight spots at the tops of his shoulders.

The deep, circular pressure relaxed Remus to the point of sighing, "Mmm."

"Mmm," I echoed. "You look and feel scrummy."

He huffed with sleepy amusement while I took my time massaging his back, using the heels of my hands to rub mid-sized circles down his sides and to loosen up his lower back.

I bent and kissed the nape of his neck before reaching to massage his temples, brushing my body against his in way that felt good for me. too, and made me wish I hadn't put on a towel.

"It doesn't seem fair that I can't touch you," Remus said.

I placed my hands at his waist and massaged up the centre of his back before stroking down. "You can touch."

Remus turned over and pulled me down. After a heated kiss, his hands travelled leisurely over my backside before tugging at my towel. In a sudden movement that made me gasp, he rolled me onto my back and reached for the massage oil. With a wolfish grin, he removed the stopper.

Later, in the dark, with Remus's skin next to mine, I felt secure enough to admit, "I don't think Harry likes me much."

"He's a boy who has encountered more evil than most grown men. He doesn't give his trust or friendship instantly."

I made an effort to say lightly, "Maybe I'll grow on him—like mould."

I felt Remus's chest shaking against my back. "I'm sure you will," he said with a smile in his voice. "You already have Hermione and Ginny eating out of your hand."

"I do have a way with noses," I said smugly.

The masculine hand resting on my abdomen slid up to tweak my nose. "Yes, you do."

I shifted to face him, stroking his cheek. "Thank you."

Remus didn't ask for what. He knew I meant it for a myriad of things, and for loving me just the way I was most of all. He brushed a whisper-soft kiss across my lips. "You’re welcome. Now go to sleep."

I giggled and scooted back around. "Yes, Professor."

His chuckle followed me into my dreams, which were incredibly sweet.

 

 

 The next morning, an owl delivered a message from Neil and Ambika Patil, inviting Remus over for tea. While scratching out his acceptance, he said, "I wonder if this has anything to do with Ambika's recent illness."

"Do you think she might not be able to return to Healer training in a few weeks?" Left unspoken was  _Do you think they won't need a tutor for their children anymore? Will you have to move out of your flat above their shop?_

"I don't know." With a shrug, he added, "No sense in worrying. I'll find out in a few hours."

"Want to meet at  _Jimmy's_  for lunch? Pizza is good for celebration or commiseration. Jerry and I will be doing both—commiserating that we pulled duty on a Saturday, and celebrating that it's half over."

"Meet at noon?"

I threw my arms around him and hugged tight. "First one there holds the booth—last one has to play our song on the jukebox."

He huffed in amusement. "Why do I have the feeling you'll be the one enjoying the irony of me paying to hear  _Hungry Like the Wolf?"_

I gave him a sultry look. "I'll enjoy the thought of acting it out sometime."

Remus smiled. What nice teeth he had. I couldn't wait to feel them raking gently across the nape of my neck or other sensitive areas. I shivered thinking about it.

He said, "We'll have to do that soon."

I kissed him soundly in agreement.

 

 

 I was humming my favourite  _Duran Duran_ tune as I walked the deserted corridor of the Auror Offices. "You're awfully chipper today," said a voice I usually dreaded.

I stopped to peer into the cubicle of the witch known as Harriet the Spy. "Wotcher, Harriet. Why are you here on a Saturday? You pull duty?"

"No. I came in to see if my inbox received anything after I left yesterday. I prefer my box to be cleared at all times." She held a piece of parchment clutched to her chest, staring at me warily.

"Wow, that's impressive," I said sincerely. Her dedication was anal, yet strangely admirable. I asked, "Did you get your hair cut? It suits you." Honestly, it would've looked better coloured, because mousey brown flattered no one in my opinion, but the shorter hairstyle was an improvement.

"Oh, yes, thank you," she said, acting flustered by the compliment.

I waved and continued on to Jerry Connelly's cubicle. My partner was so intent on whatever he'd picked up out of his inbox that my entrance made him jump. "Merlin! You startled me!"

I laughed. "You don't say." I dropped into a chair and held out a hand. "What were you looking at, a case for today? Let me see."

Jerry turned red, making his brown freckles stand out. "No, that's not a good idea."

"Are you looking at something naughty? _"_ I reached for my wand. " _Accio_ parchment!"

Luckily, I pointed directly at the one in his hands. Otherwise, I would've given new meaning to the term paper chase. I snatched the sheet out of the air and looked down.

The drawing depicted an Auror on the ground, looking up at his partner walking on clouds. Her robes were open, the tee she wore emblazoned with the words _all night, every night_.

Marsden, the office cartoonist, had paid me back for a prank. I slowly shook my head back and forth.

"Are you upset about it?"

"I've seen Kingsley skewered worse," I said, "and I have been in an exceptionally good mood these last few weeks, so I might have left myself open for this sort of lampoon."

Jerry looked at me steadily.

I threw up my hands. "OK, I left myself open, but do I look sleep deprived to you? I mean, really… _all night?_ "

Freckles were standing out on his face again. "Uh, here's the file," said Jerry, thrusting a manila folder across the desk. "We're assisting with a raid this morning. Bloke asked his neighbour to water the plants while he was on holiday, and she saw possible Dark objects."

"Who are the leads?" I asked, scanning the parchment.

"Crantz and Stern."

I snorted. "My favourite Aurors."

A raspy chuckle came from the corridor.

"D'you hear that Gil? We're her favourite Aurors!"

"If that's the case, Ron, we'll graciously allow her to buy us lunch."

I met the smiling, incorrigible gazes of the two biggest moochers in the Ministry. "Have you ever tried Muggle pizza?"

They had, and strolled in to tell us all about their favourite toppings. Stern sat on the edge of Jerry's desk while Crantz lowered his stocky body into the chair next to mine. When they exhausted the topic of pizza, the two began regaling us with stories of past raids.

I found their tales amusing. In an odd way, they reminded me of Mundungus. When I glanced at Jerry, he tapped his watch meaningfully, so I asked, "Shouldn't we be going?

I heard Stern's bones creak when he levered himself off the desk. "Whetted your appetite, have we?"

"Can't blame them for wanting in on the fun," said Crantz. He jerked his head toward the doorway. "Birds first."

"You're such a gentleman," I murmured.

"That's not what Ron's third wife said." Stern's laugh became a cough.

Crantz pounded him on the back. "There's always hope number four appreciates me."

The pair led the way out of the offices, rattling off the location of the home and the information that the suspected Dark wizard had returned from his business trip.

As we neared the semi-detached residence of our suspect, I asked, "You want me to get him to open the door willingly?" I closed my eyes and concentrated. Within moments, I had become a waif-like blonde with big blue eyes and prominent cheekbones.

Crantz frowned. "Frail and helpless should work, but I'd rather open the door to a bird with big knockers, myself."

"We'll make a note of that for the future," Jerry said.

I grinned. "Nice one!"

Stern turned to his partner. "Do we report this insolence?"

"Only if we want to buy our own lunch."

"Point taken. We'll call it 'high-spirits.'" Stern jerked his head toward the house. "Lead the way, Orphan Annie."

"Call me Kate," I said. "I may look pitiful, but I'm really a shrew." Tossing my long hair back, I approached the front door slowly and bit my lip after lifting the knocker to give the door a couple of hesitant wraps.

Within two minutes, the door opened a crack. "Yes?" a man's voice enquired.

"Good morning, Mr. Vaisey," I said, showing my Auror badge. "I have a few routine questions to ask. May I come in?"

I could feel the wizard inside looking me over. He opened the door all the way. "I suppose. What is this concerning?"

I stepped into the doorway. When Jerry, Crantz and Stern joined me, I entered the house, saying, "This concerns a warrant to search these premises for Dark objects. Any attempt to impede Aurors will be a violation of Ministry regulation." I brusquely rattled off a number," and will be met with due force and a mandatory sentence of six months in Azkaban."

The thin, forty-something wizard stared at the wand I held unwaveringly. "What do you know about force?"

When I heard Jerry shut the door and mutter a spell to assure our suspect wouldn't be able to flee out of it, I said, "Not much. Why don't we discuss the subject in the lounge while my associates carry out their duty?"

His gaze shifted. I said " _Incarcerous!"_ before the wizard's hand could remove his wand from a robe pocket.

Stern nodded in approval of the captive's bindings. "Have that chat here. Shouldn't take us long to locate Dark objects."

"We'll have them bagged and tagged in no time," said Crantz, using his shoulder to push Vaisey out of his way.

Jerry said, "Good work," and followed the other two.

The sounds of my colleagues' searching and finding dark objects carried clearly into the entry. I told Vaisey, "You had no priors. You could have pleaded ignorance about the true nature of the objects and paid a fine. Why did you go for your wand?"

"Do you think I fear Azkaban?" He sneered. "I won't be there long. My master will soon set the prisoners free."

I felt a cold chill. "Your master?"

Vaisey looked at me closely. "You know about him, don't you? That he has returned to claim what is his. I see it in your eyes. You know!"

"What's he going on about?" demanded Stern from the lounge.

"Nothing, he's delusional!" I called back.

Vaisey started to laugh. "I see the fear in your eyes. You  _do_ know the Dark Lord has returned! Why don't you tell them?"

_I'd lose my job._

The truth was a bitter pill to swallow. I made it a trifle easier by pointing my wand at Vaisey and casting a Silencing Charm _._

 


	2. Shadow Play

 

 

 _Jimmy's_ was always crowded at lunchtime. The décor was rustic at best, but the pizza was brilliant. Vincent “don't call me Vinnie” was working the takeaway counter. He called, "Hey, Tonks! Your boyfriend's in the corner booth."

"Thanks, Vincent!"

I told Jerry, "You guys go on back. I need to play a song on the jukebox."

"I like the Rolling Stones," said Stern.

"I'm partial to The Byrds," Crantz added.

I smirked. "There's a surprise.”

They sniggered like overgrown schoolboys over “birds” while Jerry shook his head like a longsuffering professor. I asked them to order me a fizzy drink and strolled over to the jukebox. After finding the song, a covert spell ended the one playing. I felt no guilt as Duran Duran's harmonies replaced a snarling bloke wanting to be a  _Rock 'N' Roll Star._

Simon LeBon was singing  _woman, you want me…give me a sign_ as I reached the table. I smiled at Remus. His lips curved. Jerry stood to allow me to slide onto the bench. Across the table, Stern continued to tell Remus how we'd bagged and tagged more than Dark objects that morning.

I shifted to glance sideways at Remus. He had a pleasant, attentive expression on his face, but his eyes weren't smiling. My stomach twisted. I was barely able to finish off a slice of pizza and a fizzy drink.

I told the others I would stay and settle the bill. Crantz and Stern vacated the booth immediately. "Go on," I told Jerry when he hesitated. "I'll meet you at the office."

I took Remus's hand in both of mine the second they walked away.

He said, "Ambika and Neil are expecting another boy."

I could tell Remus was genuinely happy for the Patils, but what about his job?

"They will need a nanny more than a tutor, of course," he said. "Since Ambika's mother is widowed and young enough to help care for the children, she's moving to London…and I will stay with Sirius."

"W—what about your books? Your parchments?"

"Andrew will keep them for me. He offered me a place to stay, but I don't want to impose, not even on an old family friend."

"What about your safe room?"

Remus shrugged. "A few spells and the room will be restored to its original size."

I said, "I meant in Grimmauld Place. Where will you have a safe room in that bloody house of horror?"

Remus put his other hand on top of mine, rubbing softly, calmingly. "Don't worry. I'll find someplace."

" _We'll_ find a place," I said. "I'm not leaving you alone with Kreacher lurking about."

Remus's lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. "Kreacher is harmless, if unpleasant."

I personally agreed with Sirius about the barmy house-elf. Kreacher was a passive aggressive back-talker who would remain harmless only as long as no opportunity to cause harm presented itself. Our differences of opinion weren't worth arguing over, however, so I changed the subject. "I'll come over this afternoon and help pack."

He bent and kissed me softly. "How did you know I had already started packing?"

"Because it's you," I said. "Noble, generous—the opposite of me, who would've had to fight the spiteful urge to drag my feet moving out and not clean the cooker before I left."

Remus's eyes twinkled. "Have you used the cooker enough for it to need cleaning?"

I laughed. "It's the principle of the thing."

His amused smile made me want to keep cheering him. I said, "I'll see what Jerry's got on for later and owl Tom and Julia along with Cami, tell them we're having a do. They help pack, we'll buy Chinese."

"You don't have to make a party out of it. Andrew's already volunteered to assist me."

"I want to. My friends are your friends. Let them help."

I hugged him when he smiled and nodded.

 

 

When Jerry and I arrived at Remus's flat, there were two more helpers than I’d expected.

"Wotcher, Jenny!" I cried, rushing over to hug a friend I hadn't seen in too many weeks.

I’d first met Jenny Dunne almost a year ago when a neighbour accused her husband of being a Dark wizard. David was a werewolf, unable to find work. Financial worries had shown on her face. Since Remus had convinced Andrew to offer David a position at his bookshop, her face glowed with health.

David, assisting Remus and Andrew with placing parchments in a special box, said, "When I told Jenny I'd volunteered to help, she insisted on helping too."

"Let's pack up the kitchen," I told her.

"We're already halfway done," Julia called. My best mate had always been organised. At Hogwarts, she could pack a trunk in minutes. In the Auror offices, her cubicle was enviably tidy.

Tom stuck his head out to ask, "Did you really create a junk drawer  _on purpose?"_

I winked at the man who was almost as meticulous as his wife. "If you're lucky, I'll make you one for your birthday."

I hooked my arm through Jenny's and led her into the bedroom. We found Jerry had begun assisting Cami with packing Remus's clothes into a trunk. "Looks like we get to pack the lav," I said, grabbing a box from the bed and walking into the lavatory.

"Shall I leave the towels that are hanging on the rack?" asked Jenny.

"Yes, we—he might need them." She removed towels from a shelf and handed them to me to pack. I said, "You look happy. Are you still working at the coffee shop? Is David on the Wolfsbane programme?"

"Yes, I'm still at the coffee shop, and no, David's not on the programme. He's heard—" Jenny broke off abruptly, reaching for another towel. She handed it to me with a resolute smile. "I'm happy because David finally has hope for the future. He wants to start a family."

"That's wonderful!"

Jenny's eyes sparkled. "No baby yet, but we're doing our best."

"If at first you don't succeed," I said.

" _Try, try again!"_ we both finished laughingly.

Cami opened the door. "Did I hear someone say my second favourite maxim?"

"What's your favourite?" I asked.

" _Ladies first."_

"I won't ask why," I said, although if it involved my cousin Sirius, I already knew. "Are you finished packing already?"

She nodded. "Men aren't like women. They don't have dozens of pairs of shoes to match every outfit."

Remus didn't have a dozen outfits, much less shoes. I should have remembered that. I tried to joke, "I know you packed his reindeer jumper with extra care."

Cami smiled. "I was tempted to steal it for…uh…myself…. Jerry was watching, though, so I resisted."

"Who's watching him?" I said, before yelling, "Don't even think about nicking the reindeer jumper, Connelly!"

A chorus of laughter echoed in the other room. "I've got two like it at home!" he called back.

Laughter rang out again. I lowered my voice to say to Cami and Jenny, "I wouldn't be surprised. His mum's an apron-string strangler, trying to keep her baby under her thumb forever."

Cami smiled. "I'm sure a brave woman will snip those strings one day."

"Or he'll do it," said Jenny. "Could be your Jerry hasn't been ready to make a real commitment yet."

"Well, I'm not trying to set him up anymore," I said, thinking of Anne and Rita. "Previous tries ended in disaster."

"Oh," Jenny said, "then I guess I shouldn't bring up Meg at the coffee shop. She's nineteen, in college, and wishes she could meet a nice guy for a change."

I looked at Cami. She smiled. "You could go for coffee, see if they click. You wouldn't have to set them up."

I glanced back at Jenny.

"Meg's on the morning shift," she said.

Surely, it wouldn't do any harm to stop in for coffee. I said, "We'll drop by Monday morning."

It didn't take long to pack up Remus's belongings. Afterwards, I suggested we go back to my place. The night was warm, but not overly humid, so our group voted to eat Chinese takeaway up on the roof. We set the food out on the table and sat in chairs taken from my flat and Morty's.

My uncle, never one to miss out on a party with free food, brought a selection of beer and a wireless radio. We found a wizarding station that played a mix of musical styles and discussed our favourites over dim sum, spring rolls and a variety of dishes from Moo Shu vegetables to Szechuan chicken. I was surprised to learn David liked metal bands. He was surprised to find out the drummer of MegaMaggot was a werewolf too.

"I never read about that in the paper," he said. "I suppose if you have money you can keep the  _Prophet_ from ruining your life, and if you don't…." David shrugged. "I'll have to share that at the next meeting. Might lift some spirits."

"Meeting?" Remus asked.

David looked uncomfortable. "I met a man at the hospital who gave me a card with an address. It's just some blokes who get together and talk—vent—about what it's like trying to get by without Wolfsbane," he said apologetically. "I didn't think you'd be interested."

"I'm very interested," said Remus. "May I accompany you to your next meeting?"

"Sure."

Julia lifted a white carton. "Who wants a fortune cookie?"

There was a collective groan. Jul took one and passed the box to Jerry, who said, "I think it’s fun to see the looks on people's faces when they read their fortune."

"Me, too," said Cami, passing the carton to Jenny.

I got the last cookie. I don't know why that gave me a bad feeling, except I've never liked having no choice, or being forced to take what I was given.

Morty volunteered to go first. " _Beware of odours from unfamiliar sources_ ," he read in a droll tone.

I said, "Keep your wand handy when you clean out from under your bed, Uncle."

Next to Morty, Andrew chuckled. "Excellent advice. Here's my fortune.  _Youth and skill are never a match for age and cunning._ "

Uncle Morty turned his head to smirk at me. "Remember that, Niece."

Tom cracked open his cookie to read, " _Many a family tree needs trimming_."

Julia glanced at his face and hastily broke her cookie in half. "Mine says  _the best lovers make love on a full stomach_. Goodbye, everyone, Tom and I have to leave now."

During the laughter that followed, I saw Tom take his wife's hand. I reached for Remus's fingers and squeezed. The Fentons had not officially disowned their son, but unofficially….

Jerry read his next. " _Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known."_ He looked pleased with his fortune.

Cami smiled widely as she read, " _The only rose without thorns is friendship."_

"That's lovely," said Jenny, before looking down at the scrap of paper in her hand. " _If you continually give, you will continually have."_

"Then you have everything," David said, kissing his wife's cheek. He read his fortune with a rare grin. " _We read to say that we have read."_

"Sounds like a left-handed compliment," Andrew remarked.

"And not without a grain of truth," said Remus, "like this one— _a professor is one who talks in someone else's sleep."_

"How did they know you're in my dreams?" I said playfully.

Julia asked slyly, "But is he a  _professor_  in your dreams?"

Sometimes, but those were no one's business except Remus. I stuck out my tongue and threw a bit of cookie at my best mate. While the others laughed, I scanned the fortune in my hand.

"What's it say?" Morty asked, leaning sideways, trying to peek.

I closed my fist. "Did you rig these, Julia?"

"No!" she said, "Or Tom's would've been  _brevity is the soul of lingerie!"_

"Dorothy Parker," Andrew said with a smile. "My wife was fond of her."

"I'm not fond of my fortune," I said wryly. " _A closed mouth gathers no feet."_

The face I made amused my friends, but I saw Remus studying the hand I closed so tightly.

After the others went home and we Flooed back to spend one last night in his flat, Remus asked quietly, "What was your real fortune?"

I leaned back against the safe room door, my hand instinctively covering the pocket containing the slip. "It's too stupid. I don't want to read it."

"I'll read it, then," he said, reaching into my pocket.

My lips twitched. "You seem to be taking your time finding that paper, Professor."

The fingers inside my pocket gripped my thigh before sliding out with the fortune. "I'm a thorough man, Miss Tonks."

"Call me Nymphadora."

Remus touched his lips to mine in a lingering kiss. He looked into my eyes. "Words cannot truly harm us."

"I know," I whispered, "but they still hurt."

He unfolded the tiny white ribbon of paper to read, " _Character is built upon the rubble of dreams."_

"I think that fortune's total crap, and I won't let it come true," I said fiercely, drawing his head down to mine.

Remus pinned my body with his as I tried to devour him with kisses. My hands slid through his hair and then lowered to pull him closer. Need rose, digging into me with sharp claws. I tilted my hips, moving in invitation.

His kiss was searing. One of his legs slipped between mine. "Nymphadora," he said in a raspy voice, trailing kisses down my throat. "I've watched old dreams crumble. New ones rise to take their place. There's nothing to fear." Remus's mouth lowered to my skin and sucked gently.

I clutched his shoulders. "Do you remember the first time we kissed in this room?" I asked shakily.

His lips sought mine again. His mouth was as hot our kiss, his tongue delving and stroking in a way that made my insides clench. "I remember."

The growl in his tone caused my body to quiver in reaction. His fingers lifted the hem of my tee. I raised my arms to help him take it off, gasping when he removed his shirt and pressed heated skin against mine. I ached in a way more keenly felt now that we were lovers. It was hard not to want the overwhelming rush of sensation  _right then,_ even though I knew how exquisite it was to wait for that ultimate pleasure. I looked into his eyes and took a shuddery breath. "I wanted…."

I could be bold, just not enough to admit exactly what I'd wanted when he'd pressed me back against the wall that first night. How much I still wanted it.

I didn't have to. Remus smiled and lifted my leg to his hip.

 

 

The next few days passed in a blur of activity. I helped Remus store his books and parchments at Andrews and divide his clothing and household goods between my place and Sirius’s. The furniture, except for the bookshelves packed along with the texts, we miniaturised with spells and brought to his new room at Grimmauld Place.

More precisely, Remus brought his things while I had to sneak into the house through a window in the attics. Molly Weasley had definite opinions on underage children's exposure to  _inappropriate sexuality,_ and she demanded no relationships be flaunted.

Beneath her steely gaze, I agreed to become part of what a Muggle author named Piers Anthony termed  _The Adult Conspiracy._

In the mythical land of Xanth, The Adult Conspiracy was an attempt by all adults to prevent juveniles from gaining knowledge of words and concepts—especially about sex—deemed to be inappropriate. In Grimmauld Place, every unmarried adult promised to keep his or her relationships not only private, but also secret from the children.

Sirius thought it a joke, but went along to keep peace. Remus agreed with Arthur that the children should be concentrating on the upcoming school year, not relationships that were none of their concern. My opinion fell somewhere in-between.

In the bedroom he'd cleared for Remus, Sirius took a great deal of pleasure in explaining why the room was grimy. "I turned all the furniture to ash," he said. "It was very therapeutic."

"Too bad you don't find  _cleaning_ therapeutic," I said tartly, pointing my wand to help Remus  _Scourgify_ the room.

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "Two words: house-elves. I never had to clean until I had my own place. Even then," he said with a grin, "my friends would give the house a swish and flick whenever they dropped by."

"Out of pity," said Remus.

I scoffed. "Out of concern for basic sanitation."

Remus chuckled. "That too.”

My cousin watched us with a wicked gleam in his eye. "You'll have to ward the room for privacy. The boys sleep on the floor below, and I guarantee they'll hear every creak and squeak if you don't."

"How would you know?" I asked.

Sirius grimaced. "Dumbledore finally approved Cami to visit, so last night…." His expression turned pained. "Harry thought I was having nightmares and came up to make sure I was all right."

"Aw, that's sweet," I said between giggles.

Remus coughed. "Yes, it is."

"Laugh at me, will you?" Sirius said with an evil grin. "I'll have the last laugh." He removed his wand and began shooting streams of water at us.

I spat out a mouthful of water and took aim. The variation of  _Scourgify_ had bubbles spilling between Sirius's lips. "Take that, you rabid dog!"

Sirius hit me with  _Rictusempra._ I fell to the floor laughing. The moment Remus countered the spell the door flung open.

Molly stormed in. "WE HAD AN AGREEMENT!" She exhaled heavily and gritted out, "Echoes of laughter can be heard downstairs. I told the children the house may have a ghost."

"I'm sorry, Molly," I said.

"We'll set privacy wards at once," said Remus.

Sirius said flippantly, "If they don't believe the ghost story, tell them Azkaban unhinged me and I laugh like a girl now."

"Be sure I will!" Molly promised. With a hint of a smile, she said on her way out the door, "Fred and George already think it was you."

Sirius snickered. When the door closed, he held his thumb and forefinger with only a few millimetres between them. "Those two lads are  _this close_ to joining that 'Adult Conspiracy' thing."

 

 

I remembered Sirius's words a few days later when Jerry and I left work early. After hitting it off with Meg, Jerry asked her out. He was taking her to dinner that night and wanted to go home early to get ready. My plans weren't as romantic. I was Apparating to Grimmauld Place. There was loads of cleaning that needed done, even if I wasn't keen on doing it.

When Fred and George claimed me as their attic-cleaning partner, the flirtatious grins on identically charming faces made me wonder if they didn't already know more about the opposite sex than their mother would think appropriate.

"So," said Fred while we climbed the stairs. I was almost sure Fred was the twin with the freckle directly beneath the right earlobe. "Bill says you can morph your whole body."

"You can look like anyone you want," said George, or the twin with the freckle directly beneath the left earlobe.

"Did you two have someone in mind?" I asked, giving the handle to the attic door a push when it only opened partway. It wouldn't budge, so I kicked the panel open.

The twins exchanged an approving look and then said, " _Fleur Delacour."_

I walked into the attic, shaking my head in amused disgust. "Typical men, sucked in by Veela looks and a French accent. All you see is the outside. You don't care what she's really like."

"I'm sure inside, she's ugly," said George.

"Hideous," Fred agreed.

The attic was a jumbled mess of boxes, trunks, and furniture stacked carelessly upon one another. Dust motes thick as snow flurries whirled in the light seeping in through dirty windows. I was in no hurry to start our Herculean labour, so I closed my eyes and concentrated on shifting my body to resemble the girl I had seen in the paper and once on the street with Bill.

"C'est impossible to resist me," I purred, captivating the boys with a sultry glance. I tossed my hair. "Nevair forget zat I 'ave ze power to wrap a man around my leetle fingair." I sashayed forward. "An when I am feenished wrapping Bill around zis one," I cooed, tapping Fred in the chest with the little finger on my right hand.

" _What?"_ the twins asked, when I paused to smile wickedly.

I crooked the little finger of my left hand and tapped George's chest. "I still 'ave anuzzer pinky."

"Cor…." George sighed.

"Blimey," said Fred.

I morphed my features, laughing when they said in unison, " _Do it again!"_

"No," I said, trying to remember I was a responsible adult. "We have to start cleaning."

Fred and George looked at each other. George answered Fred's eyebrow lift with a nod. They both turned to me with a smile. " _How about some music?"_

"What'cha got?"

Fred turned and called, " _Accio Charlie's orb!"_

"Charlie sent us an orb of Romanian music," said George.

"Folk music?" I asked.

The boys screwed up their faces.  _"NO!"_ they said, " _Pop music!"_

Fred held the Orpheus Orb that floated into the attic up for me to see. "Charlie said one of their songs is huge amongst wizards in Romania, and they might even record music for Muggles."

"We've listened to  _Dragostea Din Tei_  so many times, we can sing it," said George.

Fred grinned. "And we don't even speak Romanian."

I said, "Spin it, then!"

Fred set the musical sphere on an old desk and gave it a spin. Within seconds, the orb began to glow. Music filled the attic. I didn't know what to think at first, but the rhythm and melody were so infectious, by the second refrain I was singing along with Fred and George.

_Nu ma, nu ma iei…numa, numa iei…nu ma, numa, numa iei . . . ._

The twins laughed when I told them to play the song again. We used our wands to move furniture while singing.

_Ma-Ya-Hi…Ma-Ya-Hu…Ma-Ya-Ho…Ma-Ya-Ha Ha…._

By the fourth Ma-Ya-Ha Ha I was dancing with the twins, who had moves they sure hadn't learned from their brother Charlie.

We all turned to the doorway when a voice asked, "What do you think you're doing?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very musically inspired, this chapter! :D Duran Duran, Oasis, and O-Zone, the Romanian band behind the Numa Numa song I couldn't resist any more than a fortune cookie! Since this was the end of Tonks and Remus's time in his flat, it was fun to re-visit the end of chapter eleven of _Once in a Blue Moon_ and let Tonks live out her fantasy.


	3. Shadow Dance

 

Sirius strolled into the attic, theatrically clasping a hand to his heart. "Partying without me in my own house…I'm  _seriously_  gutted."

The twins laughed.

Fred stopped the music. "We read in Filch's files about the dance held in the trophy room your seventh year."

"We didn't want the competition," George said, smiling like his brother, ear to ear.

"Gryffindor won the House Cup. We had to celebrate." Sirius grinned.

Fred lifted his hands to make quote marks in the air. " _With lewd and lascivious gyrations?"_

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "Filch always had a way with words."

The twins looked at each other and nodded.

"He could write a book," George said.

"Our exploits would make up half, easy," said Fred. His eyes grew big. "We could sue!"

George frowned. "For what? Libel? It would all be true."

"No, royalties!"

The boys' faces lit up at the idea.

I said reluctantly, "We have to get back to cleaning."

Sirius chuckled. "I'll help if you put music on.”

I asked with mock-concern, "Are you sure you should risk it? You haven't danced in ages. You might embarrass yourself with rusty moves." I knew he danced with Cami, but the boys didn't.

They snickered appreciatively.

Sirius turned to the twins. "Does a Gryffindor back down from a challenge?"

"NO!" they yelled.

"Spin that orb," Sirius commanded.

George saluted and spun the orb.

_Ma-Ya-Hi…Ma-Ya-Hu…Ma-Ya-Ho…Ma-Ya-Ha Ha…._

I moved my hips to the beat. "Start easy, cousin. I'd hate for you to strain something."

Sirius grabbed my hand and gave me a spin. "Try to keep up, little girl."

It was mad, the four of us dancing and jumping around, mangling Romanian in our attempt to sing along. We didn't do any cleaning, but I was happy to see the brooding, sullen expression Sirius wore so often lighten into boyish glee.

We were demonstrating to Fred and George how to properly do the bump when Sirius said, "C'mon in Harry! Join the fun!"

I stumbled in the middle of swinging my hip to the side. Sirius wrapped an arm around my shoulders to steady me while I looked toward the doorway.

Harry shook his head. "I've got two left feet."

Sirius said, "Tonks doesn't let that stop her!"

I elbowed him affectionately and walked over to stop the orb. "Does Molly need help, Harry?"

"No, Ron and I do. We've come across a ghoul in an upstairs toilet, and he doesn't seem harmless like the one at the Burrow."

"The Burrow's ghoul is far from harmless," said George.

"Ugly bastard groans and clangs the pipes at all hours," Fred grumbled.

George made a face. "And  _we_ get in trouble for language when we yell at him to stop the bloody racket."

I asked Harry, "What makes you think this ghoul's not harmless?"

He shrugged. "He acted more…murderous…. He bared his teeth and took a swing at us with a stick or something he held in his hand. Ron's making sure the door stays locked while I'm gone."

Sirius stepped forward. "Was the ghoul buck-toothed?"

"No, his teeth were jagged."

A chill ran down my spine. "The stick in his hand, was it white? Did it look like a bone?"

"Yeah, maybe."

I exchanged a glance with Sirius. He said, "Lead the way, Harry. You were right. This isn't the average ghoul, and he's anything but harmless."

"What kind is it?" asked Harry on our way downstairs.

I said, "It's a  _ghūl,_ the Arabic name for a demon that dwells in uninhabited places." I left out that in folklore, the creature waited for darkness to stalk the unwary in graveyards or transformed into animals to lure victims into the deserts. My pace picked up.  _Ghūls_ ate more than spiders and moths. They would eat human flesh.

An idea struck. I called over my shoulder, "Fred, Apparate to the kitchen and grab the roast your mum planned to cook for dinner."

"I thought ghouls ate spiders?" Harry asked when Fred Disapparated. He pointed to the end of the corridor where Ron Weasley stood guard.

I sidestepped the question. "Is there a window in that lav?"

"Yeah. It's between the sink and the door to the toilet."

"If you're thinking the light from the window will weaken it, I doubt enough sunlight could penetrate the grime," Sirius said.

Ron smiled in relief to see us approach. "That thing's been making the creepiest moans."

"It's hungry," I said. My gaze flew to Sirius. His face was set. He knew hunger would overcome the  _ghūl's_  natural instinct to wait for prey, and sleeping children would be vulnerable to attack.

Ron's face screwed up in disgust. "Stupid ghoul. There were spiders big as saucers in the dining room. He should've eaten those and saved us the trouble of clearing them out of the dresser."

" _Us_?" Harry asked.

George told me, "Ronnikins took an hour and a half to make a cup of tea when we discovered those."

I smiled at Ron. "Found out a watched pot never boils, did you?"

Ron looked sheepish. "Yeah."

_Crack._

Fred Apparated into the corridor. "Here's the roast!" He held out a bloody piece of meat.

"Why did you take it out of the butcher's paper?" George asked.

Fred snickered. "Wasn't in paper. It was in a pan, about to be roasted."

"Mum's going to have kittens when she finds that gone." Ron's voice conveyed his gladness someone else would be on the receiving end of Molly's wrath.

I would apologise for the theft later. Right now, we had a  _ghūl_  to deal with. I said, "Sirius, will you hold the roast and be ready to throw it toward the window?" When he grasped the roast with two hands, I asked Ron and Harry to light the tips of their wands as brightly as possible. It was obvious they wanted to help, and I didn't consider  _Lumos_ an infraction of the regulations against underage magic.

Harry asked, "Are you going to  _Stupefy_ the ghoul?"

"It would only slow him down, not stop him," I replied.

"Like giants or dragons," Harry said with a thoughtful expression.

"Everyone ready?" Sirius asked eagerly.

I said, " _Alohomora_."

The door opened. Inside the dim chamber, we discovered the creature had left the toilet area. Thin, slimy and hairless as its tamer counterpart, the  _ghūl_  threateningly raised what appeared to be a leg bone, hissing in reaction to the light flooding into the lavatory. It stepped back, toward the toilet and the window. "Sirius, now!" I yelled.

He threw the roast. The  _ghūl_  dropped the skeletal weapon to clutch the meat, lowering its head to gnaw at raw flesh, blood smearing its face and dripping onto dusty tiles.

Behind me, Ron said, "Ghouls aren't supposed to do that. I borrowed Hermione's essay for DADA, and nowhere did she say anything about ghouls eating meat."

The disbelief and horror in the boy's voice strengthened my resolve. The Hurling Hex I cast with all my might hit the  _ghūl_ with enough force to send it crashing through the glass and wood.

The boys pushed past me to crowd into the lavatory. "It's gone," Harry said. "Crumbled to dust on the ground."

"Rest in pieces," said George, leaning out of the broken window.

Fred looked over his brother's shoulder. "The roast is still there." Jokingly, he asked, "Think we should levitate it, wash it off, and return it to the kitchen?"

"Of course not," said Sirius. "That would be ghoulish."

All the boys except Harry snorted with laughter. Solemn green eyes flickered between me and the window. When the twins stayed behind to assist Sirius in repairing the damage, the other two boys trailed after me into the corridor. Harry quietly asked, "Was that the first time you killed something?"

I was tempted to be flip and mention the worm I'd used for bait on my one-and-only Muggle fishing expedition. Instead, I answered, "Yes, it is." Harry's expression made me think he was going to ask how I felt about it. Since my feelings were mixed, I hurriedly asked, "Where's Kreacher?"

"Hiding in his den beneath a cupboard in the pantry, I expect," said Ron. "Probably fondling one of Mrs. Black's socks, the old nutter."

He and Harry followed me downstairs.

"What do you want with Kreacher?" Harry asked.

I paused on the stairs. He and Ron deserved to know the  _ghūl_ didn't wander in by accident, that someone summoned it purposefully.

Before I could say anything, Remus called up the steps, "I’ve been charged with repairing a grandfather clock with a nasty habit of shooting bolts. I need a couple of assistants to wield silver trays as shields while I work."

Harry smiled. "I'll help!"

"Me too!" said Ron.

Kreacher forgotten, the two clambered downstairs.

I waited a few moments and then continued down to the basement. The kitchen was empty when I entered. I was guiltily relieved not to have to explain the missing roast or the method I was about to use to gain information from Kreacher.

The pantry door was ajar. I silently opened it and walked into the space recently cleared of containers that held ingredients more suited to potions-making than cookery. I shut the door and crossed to the cupboard housing the water heater. Within, I saw an open space in the floor.

Not about to go down into Kreacher's niche, I transfigured my clothes and closed my eyes to concentrate on becoming someone the elf would eagerly leave his den for. The skin of my face stretched taut. Spittle dribbled from the twisted corner of my mouth as I screeched, " _Kreacher! Worthless creature!"_

In the blink of an eye, the barmy old house-elf stood before me. I hardened my heart against the naked adoration on his face and spat, "The  _ghūl_ is destroyed, you by-product of filth! _"_

Kreacher cringed in expectation of a blow, his baggy skin creased in misery. "Mistress will not forgive Kreacher for failing to complete her last order. The  _ghūl_  he released from Mistress' trunk did not rid the house of scum." He dropped to the stone floor, raining kisses on my feet. "Kreacher's head is not worthy to adorn his Mistress' wall!"

I pushed him away with my shoe. The elf fell back, a smile of pleasure on his face. I screamed, "YOU OBEY ONLY THE MASTER NOW, DO YOU HEAR ME!"

The pantry door opened. "The whole house will hear you if you don't stop yelling," Sirius said. His head jerked back in shock when he saw me. "What the bloody hell are you playing at?"

After I morphed my features and tranfigured my clothes, I said, "I found out your mother trapped the  _ghūl_  in a trunk, ordering Kreacher to free it when he needed to  _rid the house of scum_."

Sirius fixed Kreacher with a grim stare. "Did dear old Mum have any other  _final requests?"_

A look of hatred flashed in watery eyes. "No, Master."

"Go to your rat-hole and don't show your face for the rest of the night," Sirius ordered, his expression matching the elf's in loathing.

"Yes, Master," Kreacher said, before turning away to mutter, "Kreacher wishes Mistress left him more instructions, yes, he does." He dropped into the hole, voice carrying as he said, "The half-blood freak is good, so good at being the Mistress. Kreacher thinks she is more Black than his blood-traitor Master."

Sirius led me out of the pantry. "Don't listen to him," he said. "You used your abilities to get the answers we needed, and we'll all sleep better knowing he doesn't have any other plans to cause us harm."

"I won't," I forced myself to say casually. My eyes went to the empty roasting pan.

Sirius gave a low chuckle. "I sent the lads out for pizza."

We went upstairs to watch Remus cast the finishing spells to reset the clock while Harry and Ron stood by, dented trays in hand, ready to shield again if necessary. I walked over to stand next to Ginny. Her gaze was fixed on Harry.

I smiled to myself. She and I were a lot alike. Only daughters and observers who didn't hesitate to act when necessary; we both had senses of humour on the sarcy side. The time we sat beside each other at dinner, our whispered commentary on the conversations around us ended in uncontrollable giggles. It made me glad Molly usually sat at the other end of the table.

My attention became focused on Remus's smooth, unhurried motions fixing the clock. He had the most amazing hands.

"Yes, he does," murmured Ginny.

I stiffened. Dammit, I'd said that out loud! I glanced sideways. Ginny was looking at me with an “uh oh” expression on her face. Our eyes met and immediately slid away from each other.

I cleared my throat. "That, uh, grandfather clock has amazing hands, doesn't it?"

"Yes! Yes, it does," Ginny agreed vigorously.

Hermione was standing on the other side of Ginny. She heard our remarks and said, "Those hands don't look anything out of the ordinary to me."

I chanced a peek at Ginny. She was smirking. I turned a laugh into a cough.

Molly heard me. "Do you need a Pepper-Up Potion, Tonks?"

"No, I'm fine," I said.

Remus had finished spelling the clock into submission and was thanking the boys for their assistance. I heard a sigh. Not from Ginny, but from Hermione. She was watching Ron the way Ginny watched Harry. I concealed a smile. Molly, worried about the goings on of the adults in the house  had no clue teenaged drama was brewing.

When the boys went to return their “shields” to the dining room without so much as a glance in the girls' directions, I modified my opinion. Maybe Molly knew the boys were oblivious of the effect they had on the girls, so she didn't worry about having to deal with teen romance.

Thoughts of romance drew my gaze to where Remus stood with Sirius. My cousin was boisterous and loud, using dramatic gestures while he talked. My lover was subtle and quiet in contrast, his smile radiating warmth that beckoned irresistibly.

I saw Remus's lips firm while Sirius told him about the  _ghūl_. He turned to pin me with a searching look. I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but his expression didn't lighten. He knew me too well.

I hastily asked the girls, "Are you hungry?"

Molly heard me and exclaimed, "Oh heavens, I forgot to conjure the roast!"

Just then, the doorbell rang, setting Mrs. Black's painting off. Sirius stormed away to answer the front door, barking, "Shut UP you evil old crone!"

Remus took a step toward me. I backpedaled, bumping into Molly. "Sorry," I said. "I'll go help bring in the pizza."

"Pizza?" the girls asked eagerly.

" _Pizza?"_ Molly repeated, puzzled.

"Remus can explain," I said, darting away.

In the entry hall, Fred and George each held several pizza boxes in their arms, sniggering over Sirius's efforts to close the curtains back over his mother's portrait. I ran to help, tripped, and grabbed a curtain as I fell. The moth-eaten fabric yanked back into place as I hit the floor.

Ron and Harry clattered down the stairs just in time to see Sirius assist me to my feet. I rubbed an elbow and said straight-faced, "Pizza's here."

"Extra anchovies, just for you, Ronald," said Fred.

George said, "Garlic and onion for you, Harry."

"Anything a  _ghūl_  hasn't gnawed on is fine with me," I said.

Sirius and the boys were amused, but the man who walked down the corridor in time to hear my wry comment stared at me in concern. I almost morphed long hair so I could hide behind it. Instead, I hid behind Fred, giving him a friendly nudge toward the kitchen.

Molly was visibly shaken to learn of the  _ghūl._ She hugged me like one of her children, patting me on the back. I got choked up.

Unable to handle the motherly treatment, I disengaged and sat between Fred and George. They needed little encouragement to talk about anything and everything. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Remus looking down the table at me. I avoided meeting his gaze and left as soon as possible.

.

 

After a shower at home, I pulled out my comfort t-shirt along with a pair of shorts. I dressed swiftly and returned to Grimmauld Place, sneaking in through the attic. Remus wasn't in his room, so I curled up on the bed recently made a double.

"I hoped I would find you here," Remus said when he entered the room.

I sat up, still hugging his pillow. "What time is it?"

"A little after ten. Did you fall asleep?"

I rubbed my eyes, nodding.

Remus crossed to sit on the bed. He took the pillow and set it aside, smiling a little to see my tee. "Have you claimed my MegaMaggot shirt?"

"Just sharing. I like it better on you. Shows off your muscles."

The corners of his mouth jumped up. "I like the way it shows off your skin."

The muscle tee had large arm holes and I wasn't wearing a bra. I had hoped to distract, so I said, "Good."

Remus lifted a hand to run the backs of his fingers down my face. "How are you feeling?"

I looked into his understanding eyes and admitted, "Not so good." I threw myself into his arms, resting my cheek against his chest. "Harry asked me if I'd ever killed anything before."

"You did what was necessary to protect the children."

"I know, and I would do it again. I'm not sorry." I swallowed hard. "But I still feel awful. I'm  _not_  like Mrs. Black. I don't enjoy hurting things."

"Of course you don't."

"She starved it," I whispered. "It was so  _hungry_. _"_

Remus held me while I cried. He didn't remind me the  _ghūl_ was an animalistic creature that would’ve preyed upon the innocent while they slept. He stroked my back and pressed kisses to my hair.

When I calmed and lay quietly against him, he said, "I've told you my friends took risks, slipping into the Forbidden Forest with a werewolf for moonlit runs." Remus's tone was filled with regret as he added, "What I didn't share is the number of times I awoke with dried blood on my face."

I looked up sharply. "You never hurt anyone!"

He smiled a little at the certainty in my voice. "No," he said. "I never harmed a human being, but Padfoot loved to chase rabbits…apparently so did I…and what I caught, I ate."

I rose to my knees. "You were a werewolf, acting on instinct. You shouldn't blame yourself." The instant I spoke, the reason he'd told the story became clear. I shouldn't blame myself either. I smiled. "Take the professor out of the classroom, and still he teaches." I leaned over to kiss Remus softly. "Have I told you today how much I love you?"

His eyes twinkled. "Yes, this morning."

"I love you even more than I did then," I said, twining my arms around his neck.

Remus took my mouth in a kiss that set my heart racing. I made a sound of protest when he drew back.

"Nymphadora, love, you need comfort, not…."

I laid my fingers across his lips. "Haven't you ever heard of comfort sex?"

I felt his lips twitch before I moved my hand.

"Heard, yes, experienced, no. I've always considered the term to mean a cheap physical substitute for true emotional comfort."

I lifted his hand to my lips before pressing it against my heart. "I'd like to teach you another definition—a loving counterpart to emotional comfort."

Remus's fingers caressed while his mouth lowered. "A good teacher is always willing to learn," he whispered, melding his lips to mine and giving emotional and physical comfort in a way that was the truest I'd ever known.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone else read HBP and think, “I wonder why Harry thought Tonks was in love with Sirius?” This chap shows the fun I'll have giving Harry reasons to get the wrong idea, lol. When it comes to cookery, I use conjure as a transitive verb, meaning to change or influence something by reciting a spell or invocation, not in the magic trick way. The ghūl came from the OotP, chapter six, and the memorable afternoon when they found a murderous old ghoul lurking in an upstairs toilet. Ghouls are usually harmless in HP (would Molly allow one in her house if they weren't?) but they're anything but in most other stories and folklore. As for the grandfather clock, the OotP doesn't state where it is located, so I left the location vague as well. Traditional spots are the entry, dining room, and bedroom, but since the entry and dining room were described without a clock mentioned, I decided to leave it up to imagination (although it isn't in the dining room, since the boys returned their 'shields' there) :D.


	4. The Shadow Party

 

Mrs. Weasley gave new meaning to the term benevolent dictatorship. She didn't try and take charge of Order meetings, but when it came to running Grimmauld Place, only Sirius would openly gainsay her.

The rest of us relied on sneakiness.

Molly was in the right—the house was in dire need of cleaning—but she seemed to forget it was summer, and children should play as well as work. Not that Harry appeared to mind. The busier he was, the more he smiled. Maybe it kept his mind off the upcoming Ministry hearing.

The twins were experts at taking breaks, always skiving off on one pretext or another, and I noticed Remus, too, was adept in using  _Order business_ to explain his absences from cleaning detail. The girls were the ones who gave me cause for concern.

"It isn't fair," I said to Remus as we sat together on my sofa. He was reading one of the ancient texts he couldn't bear to part with, and I was attempting to paint my toenails. I swiped the clear base coat over a cuticle on accident and swore, thankful it wasn't coloured nail varnish.

"I know," murmured Remus.

Since I hadn't told him  _what_  wasn't fair, how could he possibly know? I narrowed my eyes. Was he even listening to me? I decided to find out.

"Then you agree," I said.

"MmHmm."

"You'll do whatever I say."

Remus's eyes shifted from one page to the other. "Uh-huh."

I could feel a wicked smile stretch my lips. "You'll let me tie you to the bedposts tonight."

He continued to read. "Yes."

I opened my mouth to laugh.

Remus's eyes met mine. "Let's see if the Marauder rope trick works on scarves."

My jaw dropped. "I thought you weren't listening!"

He leaned over and gently pushed up my chin before giving me a quick kiss. "I hang upon your lips."

I pretended to pout. "You brushed them, but no lingering was done, much less hanging."

A slow smile spread across his face. "To hang upon someone's lips means to listen with both ears."

"I meant the secondary meaning, or tertiary."

"The meaning the phrase acquired once you invented it?"

"Yeah."

"That is the secondary meaning. Tertiary is third hand."

I said deadpan, "I'm glad you only have two hands."

Those hands drew me closer. "Really? Why is that?"

I waggled my eyebrows. "I only have two scarves."

Remus barked with laughter and kissed me in a way that more than satisfied my requirements of lingering and hanging upon my lips. He then added exploring to the mix. I tried to lunge forward, intending to pin him down, and heard the base coat bottle tip over. I had accidentally kicked it. Shit! I hadn't refastened the applicator!

I kissed Remus one last time and then pulled back to clear up the small mess. "I shouldn't even bother," I said grimly. "I'll only make a hash of it. I should morph nail colour and quit while I'm ahead." Even if it wasn’t relaxing and didn’t make me feel girly.

"Pity, it looks like a rainbow in a bottle."

I picked up the nail varnish. "It's Fire Crab, from Siren Cosmetics."

Remus took the bottle out of my hand. "Would you like me to paint your nails while you tell me why you believe Molly's treatment of the girls is unfair?"

I answered by running to get a towel to protect his trousers.

Within minutes, I was lying on the couch with my foot on Remus's thigh. I watched him remove the applicator and asked, "Do you need instructions?"

He said while he worked, "Not too much polish on the brush, apply two thin coats, starting with a straight horizontal line across the toenail near the cuticle bed, then paint vertically across the nail in three strokes, dry, then repeat, finishing with a top coat."

I sat up straight. "Where did you learn that? An ex-girlfriend?"  _Who I hate, because you painted HER toenails, when you should have been painting MINE…even if I was too young to want you to do anything to my toes except paint ladybugs on them!_

"No, my mother."

"Oh."

I felt stupidly jealous until Remus asked, "Has anyone ever painted your toenails before?"

The way he continued to gaze at my feet instead of looking up lifted my spirits. Jealousy likes company every bit as much as misery. "Besides Mum, Julia and Siva, my nail artist extraordinaire? No."

He glanced up. "Oh."

We exchanged smiles.

I admired Remus's steady hand while he completed my pedicure. He really did have amazing hands—artistic, yet strong, and definitely talented.

The hand holding the tiny applicator brush lifted. "It is extremely difficult to apply a top coat to toes that are curling."

The way his lips curved was adorably smug. I said, "You made them curl." Before he could ask for details, I said, "How did you know I was thinking Molly's treatment of the girls was unfair?"

"You thought out loud, at least the terms  _Molly, Napoleon complex,_ and  _poor girls."_

"Heh-heh, that's a bad habit of mine."

Remus's eyes twinkled. "I find it endearing."

My gaze flickered to the bedroom door and back. "You'd better."

His wolfish grin threatened to make my toes curl again, so I hurried into speech. "The girls are working like house-elves on summer holiday. They never have any fun."

"Then think of something fun for them to do."

I made a face. "Molly won't let me take them out of the house—puts a cramp in my plans to Floo to the beach." A memory from one of my own summer holidays swam to the surface. I grinned at Remus. "Doesn't mean I can't bring the beach to them!"

A look of alarm crossed his face. "Beach, as in sand?"

"There won't be a mess."  _Not like last time._ I prudently changed the topic. "My toes look gorgeous. Thank you!" The jewel colours that magically never ran together made rainbow prisms of my nails. "They look like mini fire crab shells!"

"Without the fire shooting out of the ends."

I laughed at the thought and then asked, "Was your Mum like me, painting skin as well as nails? Is that why you learned to paint her toenails?"

"She had back pain even the best Healers couldn't alleviate. I simply did what I could to help."

I swung my foot down so I could move over and hug Remus. "You were the best son any mother could have."

"I don't know about that. I made her vow never to tell my mates."

I smiled at his dry tone. After a moment, I asked softly, "Why couldn't your mother's pain be healed?"

"Curse energy causes physical damage that, in certain circumstances, not even a counter-curse can fully repair."

His pained tone brought my gaze up. "Who cursed her?"

"A wizard who objected to her letters to the editor on the plight of werewolves."

"Were you with her when it happened?"

"No. I was at school, and she instructed Dumbledore not to send me home."

I hugged him tighter. "I'm so sorry. She must have thought she was protecting you."

When I met his eyes again, he said meaningfully, "I don't need protecting. I'm strong enough to handle whatever comes."

"I know," I said, punctuating my words with a fervent kiss.

 

 

The next day, it didn't take much to convince Jerry we should skive off work early again. After all, we were salaried employees, not paid an hourly wage, and if we completed our caseload for the day, why shouldn't we leave?

Although fully justified, we took the stairs to avoid running into those higher-ups whose only pleasure in life appeared to be giving junior Aurors busy work.

"Doesn't this bring back memories of sneaking around Hogwarts at night?" I grinned.

Jerry shook his head. "I never snuck out."

I clapped him on the shoulder. "Then consider this making up for lost opportunities."

When I opened the door of the Blue Moon Agency, Bubbles was pouring Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans into a glass jar on her desk. I detested those—it was like playing Russian roulette with your taste buds.

"What's wrong with regular jellybeans?" I demanded. "Why do you prefer ones that advertise themselves as  _A Risk With Every Mouthful!"_

"Jimmy likes them."

The mention of the sunny receptionist's Muggle boyfriend brought a reluctant smile to my face. Jimmy Durbin was a big, Irish teddy bear, even if he did have sharp teeth and claws.

"Which one's his favourite?"

"He loves toffee," she said thoughtfully, "but it's the same shade as the ear-wax, so it's more of a love/hate relationship." Bubbles giggled. "He makes the cutest faces when he's trying to work up the nerve to pop one in his mouth."

My uncle, who always kept his office door open so he could eavesdrop, yelled, "Tonks has a love/hate relationship with work. She loves to get paid and hates to earn it!"

"Says the man who cries at the thought of giving his employees a pay rise," I told Bubbles.

" _I heard that!"_

I strolled down the corridor and answered while I plopped down in one of his visitor's chairs, "I meant you to."

"I'll tolerate the cheek if you'll take a case."

If Morty hit me up to do a job every time I tried to sneak home, I would have a love/hate attitude about living in a flat above an enquiry agency. He didn't pull this often, so I said, "Case—you mean slag duty?"

He ran a hand over spiky salt-and-pepper hair. "A marital enquiry."

"Let me guess. The cheat goes for one-legged, pole-dancing strippers, and I'm the only one who can pull it off."

Dark eyes stared at me, riveted. "You could morph into a one-legged stripper?"

Actually, I didn't know. It wasn't the sort of thing a Metamorphmagus got the urge to try for a prank, like applying at a Muggle carnival for the position of Bearded Lady. I shrugged.

Morty said, "If our  _suspected adulterer_ went for birds like that, I could charge double the going rate, but he's got normal tastes."

"What's that? Blondes with big knockers?"

"No, brunettes with big knockers."

I rolled my eyes. "How big?"

He passed me a file. "Here's a picture from a magazine the wife found."

I gave it a cursory scan. "My back is going to kill me." I frowned when the model didn't move. "This is a Muggle magazine." I tossed the file onto the desk. "The cheat goes for Muggles?"

"Yes, the wife heard from a friend—who sat near the  _alleged_ cheat in a restaurant—that he pretended to be a magician to impress the girl he was dining with."

I leaned forward. "I want this to be clear. If I take this case, and he's using magic to do more than impress, I'm arresting his arse."

Morty's head jerked back, as though he had never considered the possibility. "I'll get back to you. I need to confer with my client first."

"You do that." I stood and went upstairs to grab a few things.

 

 

Before I Apparated to Grimmauld Place, I made a couple of stops. The second was at a home located on a side street off Knockturn Alley. Mundungus's door looked as faded and decrepit as ever, but it was solid steel beneath my knuckles.

"Open up, it's Tonks!"

Only the late Mr. Black's obsession with wizard security rivalled Dung's. It took a couple minutes for him to undo all the locks, bolts, and chains protecting his dubious merchandise from would-be thieves and rightful owners alike.

"Mornin' Tonksie."

I followed the man who walked like a sailor on land into the lounge packed with crates and boxes. "Don't call me that again, and it's afternoon."

"Mornin' somewhere," he said with a snicker.

I watched him finger-comb lank strands and grimaced. "Your hair is beyond greasy. Snape's may be oily, but at least it's natural."

He scratched an unshaven cheek. "Wha's the difference?"

I imitated my mother's steely look. "Yours stinks."

His gaze became wary. "Molly didn't send you here to force me into the shower, did she?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Eh, she's always chidin' me to be a better example o' hygiene to the children." Mundungus shifted in his chair. "Don' think she fancies me, do yeh?" He held up a hand. "She's a fine woman—all curvy-like—but if I know the husband, I don' know the wife, if you take my meanin'."

I was trying not to. The thought of Dung getting romantic with  _anyone_  turned my stomach. I said, "Yeah, well, I didn't come here on Molly's behalf. I came for a favour."

He smiled, displaying crooked teeth. "How's about doin' me a favour and makin' a cuppa?"

I found the kettle on a rickety side table and noticed half a loaf of bread. "Want some toast with your tea?"

"Hit the spot, that would."

I made him breakfast and looked around the room, wondering where he'd stashed the item I needed.

"What's yer favour?" Dung asked, slurping the last of his tea.

"Do you still have the Sandman?"

Ginger-coloured eyebrows rose.

I kept my expression blank, pretending I hadn't accidentally filled my room with sand one summer while Julia and I walked down to the corner market for a fizzy drink, or returned to find sand pouring out of my bedroom windows like gritty waterfalls.

Pleading was in order. "I won't leave it unattended this time. There will be no trouble. I promise, and I'll bring it right back."

"See that yeh do."

He staggered into the other room and returned with what looked like a sculpture of a square tower with a crude face chiselled on one side. "Bloke who traded it to me called it a miniature djin block found in the Wadi Arabah, but I always liked your name better."

"I was a kid who saw sand pouring out of the thing's mouth. What else was I going to call it?"

Mundungus snorted with amusement. He started to extend the djin block before holding it against his chest. "Sing the song first...with that bit you changed for me."

Oh Merlin, he remembered the bloody song I sang for him when I first named the stupid thing. "No."

"No song, no Sandman."

I gritted my teeth. "Fine." I took a breath and then halted. "You don't have a Recordbrall going, do you?"

He looked chagrined. I took that to mean Dung wished he'd thought of it. I smirked and began to sing.

_Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream (Dung, Dung, Dung, Dung)…._

 

 

Sirius’s eyes widened when he opened the door and saw my outfit. "If you're starkers under there, Remus won't be able to appreciate it. He's gone out."

I looked down at my lightweight trench coat. "I'm using this as a cover up."

"What are you covering up?" Sirius saw my glance toward the stairs and smiled. "Don't worry about extendable ears. Molly gave everyone the afternoon off, so the boys are all in the twins' room reading the Quidditch magazines Kingsley brought over."

"Good. I'm going to throw a beach party and its girls only."

Sirius's expression turned hangdog.

I arched an eyebrow. "Do you really want me to tell Cami you pouted because I wouldn't let you hang out with girls in bikinis?"

His half-smile was pensive. "No, although she'd know I don't give a toss about bikinis. I'd just like the company."

I almost changed my mind, but one corner of Sirius's mouth twitched. I was tempted to whack him with my carryall. "Wistful expressions won't work either."

"Almost worked, though, didn't it?"

"Like catching the Snitch, almost doesn't count." I opened my carryall, stuffed a towel-wrapped bundle into Sirius's hands, and ordered, "Give me ten minutes and then give that to the girls, tell them the suits are one Sizing Charm fits all, and to come up to the attic after they've changed."

"Yes, Mistress," the wretch said in eerie imitation of Kreacher.

I kept walking, flashing a two-fingered salute over my shoulder.

After I tiptoed up the stairs to the attic, I realised there was only one place for the beach—the roof. I opened my favourite entrance window and looked up. Conjuring a ladder wouldn't be hard.

"Tonks?" I heard faintly, several minutes later.

I climbed down the ladder calling, "Over here, Ginny!"

The girls rushed over to the window.

"What are we doing?" Hermione asked with a bright smile.

"Who cares?" Ginny said. "We're doing something other than taking the quizzes in _Cosmo Teen Witch!"_

I grinned. "Come on up!"

On the small portion of roof that was flat, not steep-sided, three lounge chairs sat on golden sand next to a beach blanket with my carryall and coat on it. I said, "If Mohammed cannot go to the beach, then the beach must come to Mohammed."

Hermione's toes wiggled in the sand. "How did you do this?"

I retrieved my wand and pointed it at the stone statue on the sand. " _Abda'!_   _Start!_ "

Sand began to pour out of the statue's mouth.

" _Qift,"_  I said. The sand stopped abruptly.

"How will you clean this up?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shot her another _who cares_ look, but I answered, "The face on that djin block is  _Shaj al-Quam,_  a god of night, hence the magic sand. To reverse the process, you intone the name of the god of the daytime,  _Dushares_."

"That's clever," said Hermione.

Ginny said, "No, it's brilliant."

I thanked them both and performed a speedy Sunblock Spell on the girls before dropping onto the blanket to rummage in the carryall. I pulled out three pairs of sunglasses, putting on the black pair. In a non-scientific experiment, I handed Hermione the green and Ginny the blue. My hypothesis was proven an instant later when they switched.

Next, I brought out three paperback novels. "Light reading for the beach." I tossed the first _Salem Valley High_ to Hermione. "Smart girl falls for the Quidditch player who isn't the dumb jock she first thinks he is." I handed Ginny a book. “Shy girl goes out for the Quidditch team and wins the Captain as well as the position.”

"What's your book about?" asked Ginny.

"Just a trashy romance," I said lightly, flipping the book down to hide the cover. A glance at Ginny revealed round eyes. Crap. She'd seen the cover, with its half-dressed hunk and lurid title  _The Wanton Werewolf._

Hermione said, "My mother says the books people choose say a lot about them."

My gaze met Ginny's. She smirked. I returned the smirk and said, "Mine say I think escapist romance is relaxing." I handed Hermione a towel and a bottle of fizzy drink. "So go relax."

"All right."

For a final touch, I brought out the latest Weird Sisters orb and gave it a spin. When I finally reclined on my lounger, I glanced sideways and saw smiles. The sight made me hum contentedly as I trailed a foot in warm sand and opened my book to the first page.

I jumped and almost fell off the lounger when Ginny placed her hand on my arm. She steadied me while giggling. "That must be some story. You didn't hear me call your name."

"I…uh…concentrate really hard when I'm reading," I said, closing the novel before Ginny could read things not meant for teen audiences.

"I do too," said Hermione, glancing up from her book.

"There's an owl waiting on the blanket," Ginny said. "Do you think he's for you?"

It was a Scops owl, small and fast. The Ministry had an Owlery filled with them. I quickly got up and shoved my book into the carryall, offering the owl a crisp and taking the message. I unrolled parchment and began to read.

**Return to the Ministry at once. Scrimgeour wants you in his office ASAP.**

Kingsley had jotted down the time beneath his name.

"What time is it?" I asked Hermione, the organised one who always carried a watch.

She looked at her timepiece.

We had been lying out on the beach for an hour, but he wrote the note only ten minutes ago. If I hurried, I wouldn't keep the Head of the Auror office waiting over half an hour. I said, "Keep the books, the suits, and the sunglasses, girls, but the beach party is over. I've been called back to work."

Hasty spells miniaturised the lounge chairs, rid the roof of the sand, and repacked my carryall.

"I had a good time," said Hermione. "Thank you."

Ginny hugged me. "Thanks, Tonks."

I gave her a one-armed hug in return. "You're welcome. I enjoyed it too. I'm going to Apparate from here, so I'll say goodbye…and you might want to keep this our little secret. Wouldn't want to make the boys jealous, or, worse, want to join us and make fun of our…erm…methods of relaxation."

Hermione and Ginny nodded and said farewell.

 

 

I Apparated to a street next to the Ministry and hurriedly made my way to the Auror offices. I ran to my cubicle and dumped my carryall on the floor behind the desk, exchanging my trench coat for wizard robes. Briskly, I marched toward Scrimgeour's office, telling his secretary, "I'm Auror Tonks. He's expecting me, I believe."

"I expected you twenty minutes ago."

I smiled apologetically at the Auror standing in his office doorway. Unlike the rest of the department, Rufus Scrimgeour had a real office instead of a cubicle. The jamb his hand rested on was wood. The tawny eyes of a wizard junior Aurors dubbed “King of the cubicle jungle” were appraising behind wire-rimmed glasses.

I did my best to make a good impression. "My apologies, sir."

He smiled faintly. "Come in, Tonks."

I squared my shoulders and followed the lion into his den.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The Wanton Werewolf_ is an actual title, but I only glanced at it, I didn't read it—too lurid for me, LOL. Salem Valley High is a play on _Sweet Valley High_ , a teen series I never read because the covers were too sugary-looking. (Is it bad of me to judge books by their covers? heh)
> 
> I made the Djin block miniature—they can be 9m high, which would not fit my storyline. Shaj al-Qaum was the Nabataean god of night, protecting the souls of sleepers and accompanying them on their nightly journey through the heavenly realms, which fit the Sandman of folklore who brings dreams with magic sand. I mentioned madness—there is a method to it, which is why I used the song by the Chordettes instead of Metallica's Enter Sandman. Sorry, MegaMaggot fans. :D


	5. Shadow Puppets

 

As far as dens went, Scrimgeour's was swanky. Highly polished wood, buttery leather, fresh flowers and an enchanted window made the office fit for a corporate shark. I kept the analogy in mind when I took the seat he indicated. Public servant he might be, but Rufus Scrimgeour was also a predator. It would be foolish to show any weakness.

I sat in a way that would make Mother proud. Ankles crossed, back straight, hands folded in my lap. I waited respectfully for him to speak.

He observed me in silence, with a dignified mien that added to his lion-like appearance. I kept my gaze slightly off his. I had never heard rumours that Scrimgeour was a Legilimens, but that would be a handy ability for the Head of Aurors to have. I didn't want him rummaging through my memories.

"Last November, I watched your interrogation with Mabley. Do you remember it?"

My eyes met his. The name rang a bell. Briefly estranged from Remus, I had channelled the negative energy into my work. I remembered Tom, Julia by his side, confronting me.

_Mabley, who's been around since Merlin, said to tell you he'd never seen anybody do 'bad Auror' better, and he'd ask for Tonks the Terrible the next time he had a hard nut to crack!_

Had I brought Tom's words to mind, or had Scrimgeour? I lowered my gaze slightly. "Yes, sir."

"You morphed into one of the girls Humbert molested."

"Yes, sir."

"He cried."

I had felt far more pity for a  _ghūl_ than a paedophile. I said, "He confessed."

"Humbert's solicitor filed a motion to suppress."

I couldn't prevent my lips from turning up at the corners. "It was denied, sir."

Scrimgeour's chuckle was a low rumble. "Satisfying, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"That is the kind of attitude I like, Auror Tonks—satisfaction in justice, and the fortitude to see justice done."

He used the word fortitude, but it was a euphemism for what he really meant: ruthlessness. Training days hadn’t been that long ago. I still remembered Auror Ethics and a case study that had divided the class.

Aurors Scrimgeour and Gregson, in the course of interrogating a wizard suspected in large-scale dealing of Dark objects, became aware that the man was sweating and acting increasingly nervous to be in an enclosed space. After denying the request to keep the door open, they excused themselves and left the wizard alone for over an hour.

When they returned, the Aurors found the suspect had fainted. After he was revived, the wizard voluntarily signed a confession.

The suspect had not stated that he was claustrophobic. Half the class felt Scrimgeour and Gregson were justified in using the suspect's detected weakness against him. After all, the confession led to the seizure of a record number of Dark objects from the clients listed by the dealer. The other half felt the Aurors wrongly ignored basic rights in pursuit of a confession.

I felt the tactics, while utilitarian, were ethically wrong, but I wasn't about to state my opinion in the Head Auror's office. After all, I didn't always take the moral high road. I had no qualms about exploiting weakness in personality, and he had seen me do it. I said, "Thank you, sir."

Scrimgeour contemplated me thoughtfully. "How fast can you morph?"

I concentrated and shifted my features to match the man across the table. His bushy eyebrows rose. "How far does your morphing ability go?"

I shook back my grey-streaked mane of hair. "Although I appear to be you, I'm not anatomically correct, sir."

Scrimgeour roared with laughter. "I will keep that in mind for future assignments."

A thrill skittered down my spine. Future assignments—he was considering me for more than routine enquiries! I tried to school my features, but my boss was good at reading expressions.

"Like the thought of something more challenging than investigating the complaints of little old ladies, do you?"

I smiled. "Yes, sir!"

He nodded and then said thoughtfully, "In your work, do you consider your family background to be an asset or a detriment?"

I was fortunate to be able to morph and conceal a flush of anger. I deliberately misunderstood the question. "I have a better understanding of Muggles than Aurors without non-magical relatives, so I consider my family an asset."

"I meant the  _Blacks_."

Of course he did. "Asset."

The rangy man's face slackened. "Really, why?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

I decided to press my advantage. "In training, in the role of Dark wizard, I have highest number of evaded captures on record." I forced my lips to curve. "Being able to think like your enemy is crucial to defeating them."

"You consider family members enemies?"

I thought of Bellatrix and Walburga and looked him in the eye. "I don't consider them family."

Behind wire-rimmed glasses, yellowish eyes gleamed. "Is Kingsley Shacklebolt aware of your  _unique_ perspective?"

"He's never asked."

Scrimgeour picked up a quill and opened a file on his desk. "One last question, Auror Tonks. Where were you that Shacklebolt had to send an owl to bring you back into the office?"

I flashed my best cheeky/cute smile. "The beach."

"In London."

"I made my own beach."

I kept my tone light, but I didn't relax until I heard Scrimgeour chuckle. "You really are a unique Auror."

"Thank you, sir."

He inclined his head in dismissal. I rose to my feet and turned toward the door.

"Auror Tonks."

I half turned. "Yes, sir?"

"What exactly is that scent I smell?"

"Coconut oil," I said. "My Muggle cousins say you don't feel like you're at the beach without it."

"Ah," Scrimgeour said. He smiled inscrutably. "You are dismissed. On your way out, tell Kingsley to return to my office."

I nodded and exited, wondering if Scrimgeour had questions about me, or only wanted me to think he did. I could see him using any means he deemed necessary to do his job. He was a canny, determined man.

 

 

Kingsley had a driven personality, too, if not in the exact way as his boss. At a time of afternoon when most Aurors had left for the day, he continued to complete paperwork. "Do you ever empty your inbox?" I asked curiously.

He continued to scratch out a report. "No."

I shut the door and sat in a chair. "Is it safe for me to talk?"

Kingsley held up one hand while continuing to write with the other. I turned to look at the map of the world on the wall. I noticed a red dot marking Bucharest. Wouldn't Sirius get a kick out being sighted in Romania? I started to hum.

_Nu ma numa numa iei…._

"What are you humming?"

I looked at Kingsley. There was a sneakoscope on his desk now. He must have activated his security wards. " _Dragostea Din Tei."_

His expression was blank. "Uh huh. Did you drop by on Order business?"

"Maybe I wanted to see your smiling face."

There was no trace of a smile on his handsome features.

I sighed. "I came here from Scrimgeour's office. He wants to see you."

Kingsley shot to his feet. "Did he say why?"

I shook my head.

A look of irritation crossed his face. "Why didn't you inform me of his summons immediately?"

"You told me to wait."

Kingsley exhaled heavily. "He probably wants to question my lack of progress on the Sirius Black manhunt."

"Give him the same spiel you higher-ups toss us junior Aurors." I deepened my voice in imitation of his. "Every report must be investigated, however slight the probability of substantiation."

His lips twitched. "I may do exactly that."

I stood. "If he asks what took you so long, feel free to blame me."

"I will." I was almost to the door when Kingsley said, "Why were you called to Scrimgeour's office?"

I shrugged. "He wanted to know about my morphing skills…and my family."

"About Sirius Black?"

"Indirectly. He asked if I felt they were an asset or a detriment."

"What did you say?"

"Asset."

"Excellent answer."

I smiled and reached for the door handle.

 

 

After returning the djin block to Mundungus, I Apparated to Grimmauld Place. I had debated on going home first and showering, but Remus liked the scent of coconut oil, and I wanted to feel his hands slide over my bikini-clad body.

I used a Disillusionment Charm before levitating up to the attic window. I didn't think any children would be peering out grimy windows to admire the gloomy twilight, but coincidences did happen, and if Molly heard, or happened to be cleaning a window and saw me, she would become a human Howler.

My bag caught on a splintered edge of the window when I hopped down. Off balanced, I stumbled against a pile of boxes, knocking the top one to the floor.

_Thunk!_

"Who's there?" a girl's voice called.

Crap. What was Ginny doing in the attic?

The girl rose from the trunk she had been sitting on. "I know someone is here. I heard you say crap. Is that you, Tonks?"

I broke the charm and lit my wand. "Yeah, it's me."

Ginny's brows drew together. "Why didn't you come in the front door?"

"Oh, well, you know, it's such a bother, with Mrs. Black screeching her head off…."

A look of comprehension dawned on the pretty, freckled face. "You didn't want anyone to know. You're sneaking in."

"I prefer to call it entering discreetly."

Ginny smiled. "You sound like my brothers."

No wonder I liked Fred and George so much. I said, "All right. If you can keep a secret, yes, I'm sneaking in."

"What if I can't keep a secret?"

"I use a Memory Charm and you find yourself wondering how long you've been standing there, staring off."

Ginny didn't look intimidated. She seemed impressed. "I'll keep your secret." Her lips turned down. "I'm good at keeping secrets."

I could tell she wanted to talk, so I steered her to the trunk and sat down beside her. "I'm better at nagging them out of people." I bumped her shoulder with mine. "What kind of secrets are you expert at keeping?"

"Feelings."

I proceeded with caution. "Your feelings?"

Ginny nodded. "I don't want to be laughed at again, or worse, pitied."

"Who laughed at you?" I demanded. "I'll track them down and hex them."

She giggled. "You would have to hex the student body of Hogwarts."

"No problem, I’d work out a deal with the twins. They could release balloons filled with itching powder into the Great Hall and then pop them." I grinned. "You wouldn't mind scratching for the cause, would you?"

Ginny sighed. "It would almost be worth it to see everyone itching like mad."

"Especially the professors." I set down my wand, jumped off the trunk and closed my eyes, opening them after morphing into McGonagall. I brought my hands up to scratch my black bun of hair while gyrating wildly. " _Never,"_ I exclaimed, "in all my time, have I  _ever_ voluntarily moved my body in such a fashion. I'm  _disgusted!"_

Ginny rocked back and forth in laughter.

"Detention is too good for the culprits. I insist on DECAPITATION!"

"Stop! My sides are aching!"

I morphed back and sat next to Ginny. "Oh, well, at least we'll have the memory of what might have been."

"You're mad."

"Brilliance and madness do have a way of coinciding, don't they?"

She shook her head. "I meant in a good way. Mad as in fun."

"You're fun too." I saw her look of disbelief and said, "Hey, do you think I hang out in dusty attics with just anybody?" When she smiled a little, I asked, "What brought you up here, anyway? Hiding so your mum can't force you to clean?"

Ginny made a face. "There's no hiding. She'd send her Patronus to find me."

"No!"

" _Yes_. It's a beaver, and thumps its tail impatiently. It's so annoying!"

I snickered. "Your mum is always busy as a beaver."

"What's your Patronus?"

"A big dog. When I was little, I didn't know Sirius was an Animagus. I thought he was a stray dog that came around because I played with him and gave him food." A chuckle escaped. "I was so angry when Mum wouldn't let me keep him as a pet. I sulked for ages."

"What did you think when he didn't come to play anymore?"

"That my mother, the wicked witch of London, had run off my best mate in the entire world."

"Is he still your best mate?"

I glanced sideways at Ginny. "Did Harry tell you about us dancing with Fred and George?"

She hunched a shoulder. "I overheard him telling Ron about it."

I said matter-of-factly, "Sirius is a mate, and a good one, but Julia Clearwater has been my best mate since Hogwarts, and Remus—"

"Is your boyfriend? I saw your book,” she said, “and I remembered that comment you made about hands. You didn't mean the grandfather clock any more than I did."

_Boyfriend, lover, mate for life…._  "I can't talk about it. Promised Molly to keep my private life private where you kids are concerned."

Ginny groaned. "My mother is so old-fashioned."

I elbowed her playfully. "How old-fashioned is she?"

"She's so old-fashioned…she still refers to a certain part of anatomy as a  _female-willy!_ "

I clapped a hand over my mouth, but laughter spilled through my fingers. "I love your mum," I said after several calming breaths.

"I love her too," Ginny said. "I only wish she wouldn't try to  _fix_ my problems, that she would just listen to me, or leave me alone, when I don't want to talk."

"That's her way," I said. "Maybe all mothers are like that to their teenaged children. Mine was." I smiled. "Friends are the ones who listen. I'm sure Hermione would, and I will, too, if you ever want to talk."

The words  _about Harry_  hung unspoken between us. Ginny returned my smile. "Thanks." She grabbed my arm to keep me from falling off the trunk when a ghostly form burst through the attic wall nearby. "Oh Merlin, it's my mum."

It was Molly's Patronus, delivering a message only Ginny could hear. I watched the silvery beaver's wide tail thumping up and down and agreed with my young friend. It was irritating.

"I'll be right down," she said. The Patronus bounded back through the wall. Ginny turned to me. "I have to go. She needs my help with dinner."

"Sure. We can do this again sometime."

Ginny gave a small laugh. "Hang out in a grimy attic?"

"Yeah," I said. "Don't you want to play dress up?" I spread out my arms. "Somewhere in here is Mrs. Black's wedding dress. Wouldn't it be hilarious to re-enact the ceremony?" I dropped my voice to a sepulchral level. "Do you Walburga take…." I broke off and shooed Ginny toward the door. "I'm nattering on when I shouldn't keep you. I'll come over, using the front door, soon."

"Very soon, please," she said with a little wave.

After Ginny left, I sat back down on the trunk, trying to get my mind around the incredible realisation that hit me when I had begun to mock-recite the vows. Sirius's father, whose name I had never known before reading it on the family tapestry, was  _Orion._

My Uncle Morty's full name was  _Orion Mortimer Black._

Why was Morty named after his uncle, and why wasn't there a scorch mark next to my mother's beneath the names of Cygnus Black and Druella Rosier?

I needed to talk to Remus.

 

 

I tiptoed my way down to his room and slipped inside. What I found made me forget my own concerns.

Remus was sitting in a chair, wearing his old, patched set of robes, head in his hands. I shut the door and dropped my carryall to run across the room. I sank to my knees. "What's wrong?"

He looked up tiredly. "I attended another meeting with David this afternoon."

I took one of his hands in both of mine. It felt cool, when he was usually so warm. I gently rubbed his skin. "What happened, baby?"

His gaze turned inward. "The first meeting, I merely listened. I didn't introduce myself other than by first name. This time, one of the men recognised me." He smiled ironically. "Apparently, the  _Quibbler's_  sketch artist is quite talented."

I tried to be tactful. "Was the group…hostile…toward you?"

Remus's smile faded. "No, they felt sorry for me."

"Why?"

"The Anti-Werewolf legislation we heard rumours about last December wasn't another restriction. It was a petition to terminate the Wolfsbane program." He gave a short, bitter laugh.  _"_ The Ministry is cancelling the funding  _due to the cost exceeding the purported benefits,_ according to a source in Werewolf Support Services _."_

I scrambled onto Remus's lap, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my cheek against his. I wasn't only trying to comfort him. I didn't want him to see my expression. "Stupid bastards."

"Short-sighted, certainly, not to consider the likely outcome of such an action." His hand began to stroke up and down my back. "The other side will use this to recruit werewolves to their cause. Several of the men in David's group have already been approached."

"What can You-Know-Who promise them that's any better?"

"The overthrow of a corrupt and uncaring Ministry."

I sat up and looked Remus in the eye. "Will you be talking to the men who were approached?"

He nodded.

"I'll help in any way I can," I said. "If you need a background check, or a trace, anything, I'll do it."

A genuine smile crossed his face. "Thank you."

I kissed him softly. "When is the Ministry expected to announce the cancellation?"

"Next week."

It felt like bottom dropped out of my stomach. "Will the benefits cease immediately?"

"They are expected to."

I stood and began to pace, dragging a hand through my hair, no doubt setting the spikes on end. "Snape. You'll owl Snape and he'll make the potion the way he did when you were at Hogwarts."

Remus rose from the chair. "No."

I refused to contemplate a final meaning, so I said quickly, "You're right. Death Eaters might find out and cast doubt on his loyalty, jeopardising his position with You-Know-Who. OK, we go black market. Mundugus will help."

"Nymphadora."

I began to talk even faster. "I know, I know, you believe buying off the black market is wrong, illegal and indirectly subsidising Dark wizards who finance and reap the benefits, but it would only be until we found a reputable potions maker who wouldn't charge an arm and a leg."

He walked over and laid his fingers across my lips. "No, my love. I cannot take Wolfsbane potion if I am to make any headway with disenfranchised werewolves. I wish I could." Remus smiled crookedly. "Your company made full moons a joy instead of a trial."

My eyes began to fill with tears. "I can still be with you."

"It's too dangerous."

My throat ached. I sniffed. "I'll find a way."

Remus ran the backs of his fingers down my cheek. "If determination were all that was required, I would not doubt it."

My tears dried when a little voice in the back of my mind said  _won't he be in for a surprise next full moon?_

Yes, he would. I didn't know how, but I would find a way, whatever it took. I smiled and loosened the tie to my trench coat. "I'm here with you now."

Remus made a visible effort to be more cheerful as he leaned down and sniffed. "Coconut oil. It reminds me of our holiday and that memorable afternoon on the beach."

"What about my bikini?"

He reached and pulled the centre tie. "As I recall, you weren't wearing one."

I let the coat fall to the floor. "We don't need to use Disillusionment Charms this time."

Remus slipped a strap off my shoulder. "Good," he said with the ghost of a wolfish smile. "I want to see what I touch."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there is someone who hasn't read the one shot that preceded this story— _Three for the Road_ —see what you missed! LOL. Life may not always be a beach, but Humbert was the perv in _Lolita_ , and Gregson a nod to Tobias Gregson, a Scotland Yard Inspector who Sherlock Holmes mentioned as brave, yet callous and cruel, and aye, mateys, the brilliance and madness POTC quote swashbuckled its way from last chap's end note into this week's chapter!
> 
> The memory in Scrimgeour's office came from chapter nineteen of _Once in a Blue Moon_ when Tonks was still in denial about the depth of her feelings for Remus and taking it out on Dark wizards :D . “McGonagall's” rant came from two quotes in the first book, and Scrimgeour's characterisation is based on his actions in HBP and Tonks saying in OotP that he was asking “funny questions.” Made me wonder what she meant by funny.


	6. Half Shadow

 

I dressed as quietly as possible, tiptoeing to the door in order not to wake Remus. If I didn't have to go to work, I would be still be snuggled next to his toasty warm body. Slipping into the corridor, I shut the door with only the faintest click.

"We had an agreement!"

I jumped and spun around to apologise to Molly, only to find my cousin laughing at me from the doorway across the narrow hall. I stalked over and punched Mr. Voice Impressionist in the arm. "That wasn't funny!"

"Yes, it was. You just don't have a sense of humour this morning." Black brows waggled. "Not enough sleep, eh?"

I glared. "Why aren't you in bed, sleeping, instead of out here taking the piss?"

Grey eyes twinkled. "Now, now, the Queen Mum will scold if she hears you. Taking the mickey is the  _proper_ term to be used in a house with innocent children."

My lips twitched. "Molly will box your ears if she hears you call her the Queen Mum."

"She'll have to catch me first."

I grinned at the thought.

Sirius answered my original question. "I didn't sleep well after Dumbledore popped in last night to  _advise_ me not to accompany Harry to his hearing tomorrow. Boy needs all the moral support he can get, but I'm to be chained to the house." His shoulders rose and fell. "Since I was up anyway, I walked Cami to the attic a few minutes ago. She had a breakfast meeting."

I clapped my palm to my forehead. "Shit! I told Morty I would be there too!" I groaned. How could I have forgotten?

My gaze flickered toward Remus's door. I had focused on love to the exclusion of all else. Not that I regretted it, but darn it, I could have written myself a reminder!

"If you hurry you won't be too late."

I nodded and took a few steps toward the stairs. I pivoted sharply. "Sirius."

"Yeah?"

"Why isn't Morty's name on the tapestry, blasted off like Andromeda's?"

He blinked in surprise.

I tapped my foot. "Well?"

Sirius gave me an enigmatic smile. "Why isn't your name blasted off?"

"I was never included in the family."

"Exactly."

I shook my head. "That doesn't make sense."

"Doesn't it?"

I turned away. "Fine. Be cryptic. I'll go ask Morty."

"You do that."

I held up two fingers and continued to march up the steps.

Sirius's voice followed me. "Have a nice day!"

 

 

Back at my flat, I quickly showered and dressed before heading up to the rooftop garden. I joined the group sitting around the table and reached for the carafe of coffee.

"Nice of you to join us," Morty said.

I pretended he wasn't being sarcastic. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything."  _Except Remus. If he'd been awake and in the mood, I would still be in bed._

Next to me, Cami said, "Morty was telling us that Stan's in hospital."

Stan Laurel was a thin, quiet man whose ability to tail suspects unnoticed rivalled mine at the top of my morphing game. I looked at my uncle. "What happened?"

"He got made, and then the bloke cracked his skull with the crutches he was pretending to need."

Physical violence was unusual. I asked, "Was this a Muggle case?"

Morty shrugged. "Yeah. They wander in from time to time—something about the name Blue Moon appeals." His dark eyes began to shine. "Money is money, and they'll owe double now."

I almost choked on a bite of croissant. My rascally uncle looked so much like Sirius when he grinned like that. I took a long swallow of coffee. "I hope you plan to give Stan a bonus."

Morty ignored me. "Besides a write off against the taxes the Ministry gouges out of small businesses, this breakfast has a purpose."

I raised my hand. "Morale boosting with pay rises?"

"No. Announcing that Lisa won't be pulling slag, erm, decoy duty anymore, so you two—mostly you, niece—will have to take up the slack."

Lisa Liu had never been a stereotype of Asian inscrutability, but her dark eyes were flashing now. "Morty, I thought we agreed—"

"I said I'd consider it and I have. The answer is  _no."_

Lisa pushed to her feet. "You're so unreasonable. We don't even know if I'm pregnant yet!"

Cami and I traded wide-eyed looks.  _Pregnant?_

Lisa rushed off. I told Morty, "Go after her!"

When he left, I said, "He's been more than her employer for months, but the father of her child?  _Morty?_  He's a cheapskate and babies are expensive!"

Cami shook her long brown fringe out her eyes. "So he'll shop for bargains on nappies."

We snickered over the idea. I said, "I could mind the baby for them, sometimes, when he or she isn't so little and wobbly-necked anymore." I bobbled my head in imitation. "That scares the crap out of me."

My friend's expression became wistful. "Kreacher told Sirius that Mrs. Black made a bonfire out of all his pictures." Cami sighed. "I would love to see what he looked like as a baby."

"Perhaps my mum has one or two photographs. I'll ask."

"Thanks."

Morty returned with a harried look on his face. "She promised to go to a Healer straightaway if I promised to ask, not order, one of you to take the enquiry tonight." He sat in the chair and pointed at me. "I'm asking, and you'd better say yes."

"Yes, if I can ask you a question in private."

Cami stood. "I have plenty of paperwork to do. See you, Tonks. Congratulations, Morty."

After we were alone, my uncle said, "If you want details, no, it isn't the case I told you about before. The wife is still thinking it over. This is different one."

His eyes were shifting to the left. I leaned forward. "What about this is dodgy?"

"Nothing!" He ran a hand over his salt and pepper spikes. "A little conflict of interest, maybe. It involves a bloke you know at the Ministry."

"Forget it."

"C'mon, Nym. The wife doesn't want pictures, only a written report stating how the husband responded to being approached. She's not interested in divorce, only in determining whether counselling is needed." When I didn't speak, Morty's tone became wheedling. "If they ask, I'll say my agent's name is confidential. Nobody will ever know it was you." He mentioned a fee that made my mouth drop.

"Who the hell is the suspected cheat? Cornelius Fudge?"

Morty's smile was conspiratorial. "Rufus Scrimgeour."

" _No!_ " At my uncle's nod, I said, "I thought he was one of those married-to-the-Ministry types."

"Maybe he is, and the wife will be grateful her rival isn't flesh and blood."

"Or more depressed, knowing she can never compete." I shook my head. "He's not a cheat. There's a vibe those blokes give off. I’ve never felt it from him."

"Then it will be easy money, and fun, too, pulling one over on your boss."

Merlin, I hadn't even considered that. I would be running an enquiry on the  _Head of Aurors_ …and he would never know. I stared into mischievous black eyes and was afraid mine held a matching gleam. I poked Morty with my fork. "You are such a bastard."

"I know."

I swallowed hard and said, "Do you mean that literally?"

He looked taken aback. "What?"

"I saw a copy of the family tree. You're not on it."

He laughed shortly. "That tree is a joke, pruned like topiary to befit a pureblood image." Morty patted my hand. "I never said anything because it doesn't matter. I'm still your uncle, love. Andromeda and I merely have different fathers."

"And Sirius is your half-brother too?"

"Cousin and brother, that's me. The family hushed it up, but everyone knew about Druella and Orion's  _mistake_ , even though they—especially Cygnus—pretended I didn't exist."

"How awful."

"I was lucky," Morty said. "I got to avoid family dinners and holidays, and when I left Hogwarts, I left Cygnus's house forever. Andromeda and Sirius were the ones I felt sorry for."

"Does Sirius know?"

"He showed up on my doorstep once, arseholed drunk and singing some barmy Muggle song about being his own grandpa, so yeah, he knows." Morty's smile became wistful. "How does Mortimer Sirius Black sound for a boy's name?"

"Nice, but isn't it a bit early for baby names?"

"Nah. Lisa doesn't trust those apothecary tests, so I got one of those  _what to expect_ books." His smile was smug. "I can tell."

I refused to ask how. Instead, I said, " _If_ I decide to take the job, what kind of woman does Scrimgeour go for?"

Morty's face lit up. "See, that's where your insider knowledge will come in handy. Aside from blonde and classy, the wife wasn't much help." He said in a crafty undertone, "Think of the challenge."

"Think of the danger is more like it. I could get sacked."

"Think of the money!"

I was thinking about it. When Remus was able to go back on Wolfsbane potion, it would need to be purchased. I had to start saving money. "OK, I'll do it. Where and when?"

 

 

At work that day, I found myself doing something I never had before; pumping my friends for information. I slid the questions into conversations and got back interestingly mixed opinions. Scrimgeour was thought to be a good Auror and a fair boss, but he was seen as putting the mission before operative safety. Several complaints had been filed by Aurors who didn't appreciate being treated as sacrifices he was willing to make.

Jerry and I met Tom and Julia for lunch, during which I listened to the account of the other team's investigations. When Julia and I left Jerry relating our own false lead in order to hit the loo, I said, "The suspect tried to chat you up. Bet Tom got frosty."

"Yes, he did."

I asked casually, "Has anyone at work ever hit on you?"

Julia laughed. "Besides assorted drunks at Christmas parties? Not really. Kingsley Shacklebolt once told me I looked festive, though, and Scrimgeour complimented my dress."

Bingo. "Which dress?"

"The gold one I wore two Christmases ago. You called it tart with taste." Julia pushed open the door to the lavatory. "Tom still asks me to wear that dress."

"I don't blame him." I ducked into a stall, thinking I only had one dress that resembled my friend's. I called it my Tina Turner because it was short and gold with fringe I did my best to shake like the energetic singer.

I called out, "What shoes did you wear with that dress, mate?"

"Gold peep-toe pumps."

I made a face. "Not the ones that looked like you nicked them out of your mum's wardrobe?"

I heard a flush, and then Julia sniggering. "I did nick them, and I still have them if you want to borrow."

"No, thank you!" I had gold peep-toe sandals that would go much better.

 

 

When I returned home, I found Remus waiting for me. I stood for a moment on the hearth and took the time to admire his lean, handsome face and the masculine beauty of his hands. "I envy that book."

Amber eyes were filled with amusement when he looked up. "Do you?"

He rose from the sofa and met me in the middle of the lounge for a kiss.

"Yes. You were holding it instead of me and fondling the pages."

Remus chuckled and moved his hands. "Fondling? Like this?"

It took me several moments to give the matter due consideration. "Maybe stroking would be a better word."

His hands began roaming. I feigned thoughtfulness. "Perhaps I should show you." I slid my palms down his chest. His lips covered mine again.

When we came up for air, I sniffed appreciatively. "Mmm, you made dinner."

"Molly decreed Sirius and I needed cookery lessons so we won't starve when she leaves. I conjured Shepherd's Pie." His lips curved. "Sirius botched his."

"Seriously?"

He nodded with an expression I could tell he was trying hard to keep straight. "Ginny called it a burnt offering to the kitchen gods."

I felt a smile stretch my face. "She's a great kid, isn't she?"

"Ginny asked Molly if she thought you would visit soon, and seemed disappointed when her mother said she didn't know."

"Oh, that's sweet."

Remus's gaze turned searching. "Ginny looked at me a couple of times while asking."

I said lightly, "No mystery there. I'd look at you over my mum any day too." To change the subject, I asked, "Who's on night duty tonight?"

"We are."

I grimaced. "I might be a little late. I told Morty I'd take slag duty this evening."

My love's jaw tightened. "There is an element of risk in those assignments that I'm not comfortable with unless I'm able to back you up."

I appreciated his protectiveness, but I couldn't let it stop me. "This is an easy job in an upscale pub, not a dive. The man's wife doesn't  _know_  that he's cheating, she only wants a report on how he responds to a decoy."

"No pictures?"

"None. I have a drink at the bar, chat him up, see how he responds, and leave."

Remus exhaled heavily. "I suppose it's safe enough."

I hugged him. "It will be easy peasy, lemon squeezy, I promise."

 

 

An hour later, I was shifting my features, trying to morph into a thirty-something combination of classy and sexy. It was not the easy task I had first thought it would be.

"What are you going for? Some combination of Julia and your mother?"

I looked toward the bed where my sweetie was propped up, watching me morph. "Remus, you're a genius."

His smile was wolfish. "Thinking about writing another limerick?"

I laughed, remembering the one I'd written in a pub when we were on holiday. "Maybe, baby." I turned back toward the mirror and frowned. "I want to look a bit like Julia, but not too much, for obvious reasons. What if I keep her oval face and elegant nose, while using mum's aristocratic cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes?"

I shifted while I spoke. Remus, appraising my reflection, said, "Please alter your lips. They look too kissable."

I blew him a kiss and thinned my lips slightly. On impulse, I made my hair blonde and curly, in a tawny shade that matched my eyes.

"Very striking. You look like a lioness on the hunt."

I grinned at Remus before shifting my expression to one of cool amusement. "Think he'll like it?"

"If Scrimgeour's reputation is true—that he thinks highly of himself—he'll be bowled over." He shook his head. "What made you come up with the idea?"

"Lucius Malfoy."

Remus chuckled.

 

 

I smiled slightly as I entered the swanky pub located in a choice area of London. My impression of the establishment was dark woods, red walls and Ministry officials and businessmen impressing their guests. A long, narrow bar dominated the place. Every stool was occupied.

A wandless Aversion Charm had the bloke sitting to the right of Scrimgeour casting those around him dirty looks before shoving off. I slid onto the stool and sat like my mother would, tall and serenely confident. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched my boss eat a bacon-wrapped oyster and thought he didn't look much different out of Auror robes. In tailored grey, he still looked like a high-powered wizard.

"May I buy you a drink?"

The wrong man was asking. I spared him a glance. "No."

The barman approached with a wide smile. I allowed my lips to curve slightly and inclined my head toward the wizard on my left. "I'll have what he's having."

After my order was taken, Scrimgeour said, "You like Angels on Horseback?"

I slanted him an amused look. "I've never tried oysters with Guinness before, but you seemed to enjoy it so much, I couldn't resist."

"I didn't think you noticed me."

I turned my head to meet his gaze full on. "I noticed."

His smile was that of a well-fed predator. "I noticed you too."

The barman returned with my beer. I took a long drink of stout, ignoring the little voice in the back of my head that said,  _Yes! Bottled courage! Keep it coming!_

When I caught my target's eye again, he said, "I'm here more nights than I'd like to admit, and I've never seen you before. What brought you into The White Hart?"

Smiling a little at his smooth variation of a classic line, I said, "I liked the pub sign."

"The pub sign."

"MmHmm. Besides the artistry and creative name, I like the history."

In actuality, I liked all pub signs depicting everything from animals to wars and sports heroes, but I had a hunch my target would be a history buff.

Sure enough, his eyes were bright with interest behind his glasses. "Do you know what this pub's sign represents?"

Of course I did. Earlier, Remus had told me all about it. "The White Hart was the emblem of Richard II." I thanked the barman when he delivered my oysters. Although I was tempted to eat the bacon and leave the oyster, I ate an Angel on Horseback with a semblance of enjoyment before saying, "Interesting man, Richard II."

"In what way?"

I finished a sip of Guinness. "He invented the handkerchief."

"Is that right?"

I shifted toward Scrimgeour and crossed my legs. My boss looked, but he didn't stare, which bumped him up a notch in my estimation. I was showing a lot of gorgeously morphed leg. I tilted my lips in one of Andromeda's feline smiles. "Must have come in handy when the crowds pelted him with rubbish on his way to renounce the crown."

He huffed in amusement. "I’m sure it did." His expression became thoughtful. "While ruthless, Richard's tactics got the job done."

Tactics...Remus had not mentioned those. I decided to mirror my target and answer with a question. "In what way?"

"When the peasants revolted, he promised the ringleaders a pardon and then executed them. Without leadership, the rebel forces scattered."

"No wonder people threw rubbish."

My ironic tone earned a smile. "Yes, he did enforce his belief in Divine Right rather harshly. Foolishly, too, considering that deals and compromises might have prevented his downfall."

Something in his tone made me ask, "What would you have done?"

"Appeased the people while quietly working to remove the threat to my throne."

I stared. This man was a force to be reckoned with.

He gave a rumbling chuckle. "Do I seem ruthless to you?"

I shrugged. "I suppose it depends on  _why_ you do what you do."

"Ah. Motivation is important to you?" Scrimgeour leaned toward me. "Are you familiar with Shakespeare?"

I smiled. "Enough to appreciate when it's spoken trippingly on the tongue."

Tawny eyes a shade lighter than my current ones gleamed as he recited, " _This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands."_

I was caught by the imagery, and the implication that he sometimes acted ruthlessly to defend others. Was I so different?

I needed to talk to Remus. Since my boss hadn't done more than chat about English history, I decided to leave. Before I did, there was one last test. Gasping while I looked at the clock on the back wall, as though I had lost track of time, I said, "I have to go, I'm supposed to meet someone."

"It was very pleasant making your acquaintance.”

I stood and smiled into his eyes. "I enjoyed talking to you so much. Would you...would you care to have coffee sometime?" When his gaze narrowed slightly, I laughed with self-consciousness that wasn't feigned. I felt like a gazelle being eyed by a lion. "Here I am, asking to see you again, and I don't even know your name."

He extended his hand. When his fingers clasped mine, Scrimgeour said, "Call me Rufus, Nymphadora."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Grateful Dead as well as others have sung _I'm My Own Grandpa_ , and Scrimgeour was seen as a Lord Farquaad from Shrek by Aurors who didn’t appreciate being sacrifices he was willing to make. :D The Shakespeare quote was John of Gaunt from Richard II, from a soliloquy that includes the more famous line _This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England._


	7. Shadow Hearts

 

 

I sat down before I fell down. Stumbling back to plop onto the barstool, my pretence of elegant sophistication was over. Scrimgeour knew.  _How?_  My morphing was flawless, and I had imitated my mother's deeper, calmer voice. There was only one way.

"Are you even married?" I asked.

"Shouldn't you have found that out before you began the assignment?"

I looked him straight in the eye and lied through my teeth. "No. My uncle screens clients very carefully."

"Not this time."

I turned and caught the barman's eye, pointing down at my glass. He smiled and brought me another Guinness. I drank half of it in one go. Setting it down with a thud, I said to my boss, "You're not getting your money back, so I hope you think it was well spent."

He made a huffing sound. "Oh, it was. It was." His gaze flickered over me. "I'm impressed with your abilities and amused by the guise you chose...and what it reveals."

I reached for my glass again. After a fortifying swallow, I asked flippantly, "You mean my legs?"

"Aside from that."

Cat and mouse—this must be his favourite game. I decided not play. "I figured you'd go for a woman who matched you. Sleek and classy. A lioness." I added, "You must know you're regarded as the king of the cubicle jungle."

Scrimgeour chuckled. "Yes. I even called Marsden in to autograph the cartoon before I informed him of the consequences should I feature in another one."

I looked at him enviously. "Bet you had a better threat than morphing into his ex-girlfriend."

A predatory smile flashed. "Yes, I did."

" _Rufus!"_

The Minister of Magic was walking toward us, smiling widely for the benefit of any potential reporters in the room, no doubt. I whispered, "Should I leave?"

A gleam appeared in tawny eyes. "No. I want you to distract Cornelius from conversing about matters more suitably discussed in private."

"Is that an order, sir?"

"A request."

Fudge had reached us. "I say, Rufus, it gave me quite a start to see you with such a lovely companion."

I asked, "Does he usually have ugly ones?"

The Minister laughed condescendingly. "No, no, my dear. I only meant that Rufus has a reputation for drinking alone." When his comment went un-remarked, Fudge changed the subject. "Have you seen the evening _Prophet_? There were several letters to editor about the cancellation of the Wolfsbane Program. I think you should investigate those people. They're sure to be Dark and—"

"D'you know you're much taller in person than you look in the papers?" I interrupted with a bright smile.

Fudge appeared pleased. "Really? Well, they do insist on taking my picture next to massive columns and such. I'm sure I look thinner as well."

I assured him, "Oh, you do. At least a stone."

The Minister's stocky body edged closer to mine. "What a pleasure to meet such a charming member of my constituency. Please, call me Cornelius."

He held out his hand. I placed mine in his clammy grip. "Lola."

"Are you an Auror, my dear?"

"A showgirl."

Fudge's oily smile became downright greasy. "Fascinating. Are you in a West End show?"

"I'd love to be, but I just moved back from across the pond. I worked at the Copacabana—have you heard of it?"

"No."

"It's the hottest spot north of Havana."

"Really."

"MmHmm…do you merengue? Cha-cha?"

Fudge winked. "I do a mean foxtrot."

I had been trying to wrest my hand from his podgy grip during our conversation and finally managed to tug it away. Looking at my boss, I asked, "Are you still coming back to my place for a merengue lesson? If you need to speak with the Minister instead, I'll understand."

Scrimgeour's lips twitched almost imperceptibly. He turned his kingly gaze on Fudge. "Is there something vital you need to impart, Cornelius?"

"No, no, by all means, go have your  _lesson."_ His wink-wink, nudge-nudge tone earned a frosty smile from the Head of Aurors.

"Very well. Goodnight."

I slid off the stool. "It was such an experience meeting you, Mr. Minister."

He beamed and then caught sight of a man in the back corner. "Lucius! My dear fellow!"

Scrimgeour and I walked toward the door while Fudge lumbered over to chat up Lucius Malfoy.

I muttered, "Ironic that he wants you to investigate people off the editorial page while he chats up a Dark wizard."

Once we were outside, the man I was  _not_ bold enough to call Rufus said, "Malfoy claimed to be under the Imperius Curse."

"Yeah… _claimed."_

He started walking. "You claimed to be a showgirl named Lola." Laughing softly, Scrimgeour asked, "How do you know an old Muggle song?"

"My Gran has all Barry Manilow's albums." I slanted a curious look. "How do  _you_ know an old Muggle song?"

"One of my mates at Hogwarts was Muggle-born. His mother played the music constantly during our visit one holiday."

"Oh." After strolling in silence for a minute, I asked, "Are we headed somewhere in particular?"

"No. I am merely waiting for you to ask why I set you up."

"And here I was, waiting for you to tell me."

He stopped walking. "While privately I find your manner amusing, make no mistake, I will not tolerate cheek in the work environment."

I wanted to shoot back _you're the one who asked me to call you Rufus_ but replied levelly, "I will never be less than professional or respectful, sir."

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. "How long can you maintain a transformation?"

I shrugged. "Indefinitely, I suppose."

"I need fact, not supposition. Come by my office tomorrow morning at ten and show me you've kept your hair that way overnight. Then I will explain why I arranged this meeting."

"OK. I mean, yes, sir."

"'Sir' is not required outside the Ministry, Nymphadora."

I took a step back to prepare to Apparate. "All right, and I'm Tonks, just Tonks, sir."

 

 

Morty heard me clattering up the stairs in my rush to change and meet Remus. He opened his door when I passed and followed me into the corridor. "I like the hair. Very eighties."

"This is curly. It isn't big hair!"

"If you say so."

I tossed my blonde locks and started to walk on.

"How'd it go?"

"He wasn't a cheat."

My uncle grinned. "Easy money, eh?"

Sure, aside from the heart attack I’d almost had.  I nodded. "I'll turn in the paperwork tomorrow afternoon."

"Why not tonight?"

"I have plans."

A look of discomfort crossed his features. Clearing his throat, Morty asked gruffly, "You...uh...you're  _protecting_ yourself, aren't you?"

I kept a straight face. "Yeah, I keep my wand ready at all times."

"I meant a different kind of protection."

I grinned before giving Morty a smacking kiss on the cheek. "Yes, Daddy."

A goofy smile spread across his face. "Daddy...how did you know it was official?"

I laughed and hugged him. "I didn't, but I'm so happy for you!"

"Keep it down," he said with a wide smile. "Lisa's sleeping."

"Aw, aren't you sweet."

"You still don't get a pay rise."

I snapped my fingers. "Dragon dung. Maybe when you get married."

His expression turned panicked. "Married?"

I felt my eyes narrow into my mother's gimlet stare. "Are you telling me you don't want to marry the mother of your child?"

Morty said, "No, I just don't want to splash out for a big wedding!"

I placed my hands on his shoulders. "Uncle, the bride's family usually pays."

His eyes brightened and then dimmed. "Her folks teach English as a second language. They don't make much."

"Then marry at the Ministry and spend your money on what's important—the honeymoon and the baby!"

"Honeymoon? Who can afford to take off work for a honeymoon?"

I stepped back before I shook him until his teeth rattled. "You can! Cami is more than capable of managing the office, and I'll help whenever she needs it."

"Fine. I'll run it by Lisa." He made to return to his flat.

I grabbed his arm. "What? Now? She's sleeping!"

Morty smiled roguishly. "She doesn't mind if I wake her."

"She will if you run a marriage proposal by her like it's another item on the Blue Moon agenda, for Merlin's sake!" I sighed heavily. "Get a ring, take her to dinner someplace romantic and propose. After she says yes is the time to talk about the specifics, not before!"

Still shaking my head over Morty when I entered my flat, I crossed to the bedroom and took a hard look in the mirror. No, the volume of my hair was natural. It wasn't teased up at the crown like I was trying to add millimetres in height. Relieved, I changed into a tee and denims. Before I left, I grabbed my Auror robes. The lower levels of the Ministry were chilly at night.

 

 

I didn't see Remus when I stepped into the torch-lit corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries. We were both using Disillusionment Charms to conceal ourselves. Although no security patrolled Level Nine due to the wards on the black door at the far end, we had to remain wary and on guard against the agents of You-Know-Who.

The lack of windows gave the narrow space a claustrophobic charm. I whispered, "Remus?"

"Here."

His voice came from the ground near the door. He must be sitting down. I walked over and then crawled to find him. My outstretched hand touched his jaw. I traced his face with my fingertips.

"Have you made a positive identification, miss?"

I rubbed the tip of my index finger along the inside of his bottom lip. "There's only way to truly confirm your identity, sir."

I leaned over and kissed him. Since I couldn't see Remus, I let my fingers lead the way. When my mouth touched his, I smiled. "Lips this scrummy belong to only one man. My man."

"Nymphadora," he murmured, when I kissed him lingeringly instead of prudently drawing back.

"I know, I know, the motto is ‘constant vigilance,' not constant snogging," I whispered after another kiss. "Can't we alter it to  _intermittent snogging_ to keep us awake?"

He had wonderful, husky chuckle. "Tell me about your enquiry. I'm sure envisioning it will keep my eyes opened wide for the rest of the night."

I groped about, found his hand, and entwined my fingers with his. "Maybe it was routine and uneventful."

Remus's fingers tightened. "And maybe a white rabbit will come hopping out of that door to tell us, 'Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!'"

" _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland!_ Did you read that old book in Muggle Studies too?"

"Yes. It was a new book then."

I elbowed him in the side. "Stop it! You'd be old as Dumbledore." I said, "Actually, I don't know where to begin."

"Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop."

"Who said that? The Queen?"

"The King."

"Hmmm, well..." I drew in a deep breath. "The bloke I did the enquiry on turned out to be Rufus Scrimgeour, and he isn't a cheat, and might not even be married, he didn't say, but he did admit he set me up to gauge my abilities, so I'm to go to his office tomorrow, with my same hairdo, and he'll explain everything then."

There was a moment of silence. "What did you talk about if it wasn't work?"

I don't know why I looked sideways. There was nothing to see. Habit, I guess. "Richard II. I think Scrimgeour sees Fudge as King Richard and himself as Henry V."

"Henry IV."

I snorted. "And purebloods think they keep names in the family."

"Yes...Scrimgeour bears himself quite regally."

"And he can say 'off with her career' if not 'off with her head'!"

Remus's tone sharpened. "Did you feel threatened?"

"No. I think he wants to take advantage of my morphing abilities."

There was a pause. "As long as he doesn't take advantage of my favourite Metamorphmagus."

I burst out laughing, clapping a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. When I could speak without giggling, I said, "Baby, he's over twice my age!" I leaned sideways to rest my head on his shoulder. "I'm flattered you think I'm irresistible, though."

I felt his lips brush my hair. "In certain matters, age is only a number."

"Hmmm…then those little old ladies who simper when you get a box off the top shelf for them at the market better watch it. If I see any of them eyeing your arse…lookout, Granny!"

Remus chuckled and brought the topic back on track. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Yeah. Fudge came over and asked that everyone who wrote a letter to the editor about the cancellation of the Wolfsbane Program be investigated as probable Dark wizards."

The chuckle I heard was ironic. "What will you do if you have to investigate me?"

_That must mean he wrote a letter to the editor._ I said, "I'd interview you privately at your place of residence. Start with a strip search, looking for a Dark Mark or an incriminating tattoo."

Remus's body began to shake. "Incriminating tattoo?"

I pressed my lips together before I could say matter-of-fact, "Snakes, skulls, Death Head masks, writing or runes saying 'Die Muggles, Die' or 'Property of Voldemort'. The list is extensive."

Instead of chuckling, Remus murmured, "What if nothing comes up in your search?"

"I'd be very disappointed," I whispered, "And have to switch to more conventional methods to attain my objective."

"Such as?"

I leaned over to breath in his ear. "I'd move in close, inside your personal space, and grind you down until you said what I wanted to hear."

"Yes?"

My lips found his earlobe. I tugged it gently with my teeth. "That's a start."

Remus lifted my hand and kissed it. "Thank you for providing a multitude of mental images to keep me…alert…."

I kept hold of his hand while sitting with my back against the wall. My pulse was racing and my cheeks felt hot. I felt quite _alert_ myself. I sighed. "My pleasure."

 

 

After the night passed without an attempt to break into the Department of Mysteries, we slipped out of the Ministry and Apparated to Grimmauld Place. Molly was already up, bustling around the kitchen in a purple dressing gown. The quilted fabric looked warm. I smiled around a yawn. "You look h-h-huggable."

She lowered her wand and hugged me briefly before handing me a mug of coffee. "Thank you, dear."

I drank a much needed sip of liquid caffeine and told Arthur. "And you look dashing in your bomber jacket. Got a motorbike stashed somewhere to take Molly for a spin?"

He grinned and looked toward his wife. "Shall I enchant a motorbike Mollyw—what do you say?"

"I say be content with the car, because you shall never entice me onto the back of a motorbike."

I sat near Sirius, who whispered. "Bet he's been content in the backseat of that motorcar."

"What was that?" Molly demanded.

I shook my head.

Sirius shrugged. "Nothing."

Molly turned a kipper and marched over to take a seat, holding her wand at a threatening angle. She swished it in emphasis. "I have seven children, eyes in the back of my head, and ears that prick at the sound of whispers, so if you have something to say, say it!"

I yawned so widely I heard my jaw pop.

"Say it, don't spray it!" My irrepressible cousin snickered.

I stuck out my tongue.

Sirius crossed his eyes.

Remus and Arthur chuckled.

The door creaked open.

Molly was on her feet instantly, ushering Harry in.

I greeted him and explained my constant yawning with, “I've been up all night.” The boy glanced at my hair with a  _doing what_ expression on his face.

My brain was running at half speed, so when Remus reminded me to tell Harry to be wary of my boss by asking what I had been saying about Scrimgeour, it took a second for me to react. "Oh…yeah…."

When Arthur and Harry finished breakfast and left, Sirius barked with laughter. " _Funny questions?_  That was the best you could come up with? He's been asking you and Kingsley funny questions?"

I pushed my chair back. "Oh, shut up!"

Remus caught up with me at the kitchen door. "Should you go to work sleep deprived?"

I shrugged off my bad mood. "I'll let Jerry take the lead. He can take notes too. I'll just be there to blend into the furniture."

"I meant…for the meeting."

I blinked. "I'll pop into an apothecary and grab a Wake-Up Potion. I don't have to be at work for a couple of hours, so I can take a nap too."

"All right."

I kissed Remus goodbye and waved him back to the table. "Go finish breakfast. I'll see myself out."

 

 

Upstairs, I heard a noise that routed my steps away from the front door and toward the drawing room. It was a hitching sound, someone trying not to make noise while they cried.

I thought it might be Hermione, but it was Ginny I saw huddled on a settee. In her fuzzy dressing gown and slippers, she looked like a little girl. Her misery was anything but childish, however. Kids cry for themselves. She was crying for Harry—the kind of tears that wrack the body in silent sobs.

"Hey, Ginny, how do you like my hair?"

Brown eyes stared at me in apprehension, as though fearing I'd start grilling her about what was wrong. I didn't. That was a Mum reaction. I wanted to be a friend.

I turned my head to the left and right. "Nice work, huh?"

"It reminds me of Madam Rosmerta."

I went to look at myself in the mirror over the mantel. Concentrating, I shifted my features to match the proprietor of the Three Broomsticks. With an exaggerated roll of my hips, I sashayed toward the settee.

Ginny's lips tilted up. "If you want to see Ron turn red as his hair, do that at the table sometime."

"Got a crush on her, does he?"

She smiled a little. "It's Mum's fault, going on about 'Scarlet Women.' Makes boys like Ronald that much more interested."

I morphed my face back to normal. "I think hormones would guarantee interest, whether or not your Mum said a word."

Ginny's lips turned down again. "Stupid boys. If a girl is beautiful and popular, they don't care if she's nice, or funny, or likes the same things they do. They're happy just to stare, like their brains dripped out of their heads along with their drool."

"So those occasional puddles round school  _weren't_ from Peeves balancing buckets of water over doorways? They were liquefied brains?" I said thoughtfully, "You know, that explains so much."

A watery giggle sounded. "You're silly."

"Not as much as I'm going to be." I pulled Ginny to her feet. "I've got a couple of hours before I have to get ready for work. Let's go up to the attic and play dress-up."

"Haven't you been on night duty with Remus?" She looked at me guiltily. "I overhear things."

I yawned. "No worries. If I tried to take a nap, I'd oversleep."

Ginny said, "Mum's bound to have a Wake-Up Potion in her room. I could fetch it if you'd like."

I hooked my arm through hers and steered her to the door. "We'll get it on the way."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl...with yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there…. I hadn't planned on using Copacabana until Fudge asked if Lola was an Auror, and it just spilled out! I hope those of you eclectic enough to have heard the song before got a chuckle from it and from the Lewis Carroll quotes too. :D.


	8. Shadow Rising

 

There was a naughty thrill in sneaking into a parent’s room. When I was little, I was awful about trying to find out what I was getting for Christmas. I would wait for an opportune moment, when Mum and Dad were cuddling on the sofa, to peek into their wardrobe and search under the bed. My parents stopped storing gifts in their room by the time I was seven, but the memory of past discoveries made me grin like a pixie when Ginny and I stepped inside Arthur and Molly's room.

"You remind me of my brothers. Their eyes light up, too, although what they think they'll find in our boring parents' room, I have no idea."

While Ginny walked over to rummage in the top drawer of a bureau for Wake-Up Potion, a red pile of fabric on the floor snagged my gaze. Stealthily, I kicked the baby-doll nightie under the bed. It was Adult Conspiracy in action.

"No Wake-Up Potion, but I found Up-And-At-'Em Pills. Will they do?"

After reading the front label to ensure the pills weren't a product that went with red nighties, I squinted to read the miniscule etched directions on the back of the apothecary jar. I saw a “2” and said, "Two pills, huh, I'd better take three. Hand 'em over, heh."

Ginny giggled. "I think you're slap happy."

The pills were small, but I still needed water to take them. I walked out into the corridor and headed to the lavatory. "As long as I'm not punch drunk." I snickered. "No drinking allowed on duty, miss."

Inside the lav, I swallowed the pills with water from the tap. A glimpse of the upright toilet seat made me sigh. "Remus always puts the seat back down at my flat. He's so thoughtful."

"I have six brothers and a father. They figure majority rules." Ginny grimaced. "When I was five, Fred and George put something in the tank that turned the water blue. I fell in one night and got a blue bum." Her expression brightened. "I bit them for that. They called me a 'Blue Meanie' for weeks afterwards."

I held up a hand. She gave me a high-five.

Up in the attic, I looked around at all the trunks and boxes. It would take painstaking hours to investigate each one looking for dresses. I asked Ginny, "Should we do this the slow way, or the fast way?"

"Since you have to go to work, I vote fast."

I held out my wand and cried,  _"Accio dress up clothes!"_

Trunks burst open, their contents spilling as dresses, shoes, hats, and even men's clothing flew toward us. I hurriedly pulled Ginny behind a large crate jammed into a corner to avoid being pelted.

"It was a good idea," she said consolingly, patting my arm while objects continued to thud against the wood of the crate.

There was an ominous  _whoosh_ before the point of a sword slammed through the wood to reverberate between us, millimetres from my shoulder.

"Shit!" I yelled, waving my wand to end the spell. I glanced at Ginny. "I meant 'crap.'"

"They're both vulgarities, so you may as well say the one that expresses your feelings best." Ginny's tone went from vaguely lecturing to impish. "Hermione told me that."

"She really is the most brilliant witch of her age." I winked at Ginny. "But I know who is the most fun."

Her brown eyes sparkled. "Let's go see what came out of the trunks."

We stepped out and found an enormous jumble of clothing, shoes, and accessories piled in front of the crate. Into the wood of the crate were buried at least a dozen knives.

Ginny pried a knife out by its jewel-encrusted handle and held it up. "Who would think this was part of dress up clothes?"

A memory of playing pirate with my cousin “Black Dog” came to mind. My eyes slid away. "Dunno. Wonky spell, I guess. Let's look through the buried treasure. I mean clothes."

"It is rather like buried treasure," Ginny said, lifting an old top hat. We began to sort through the clothing and jewellery, trying to find an outfit to wear. While I was reaching down to grasp what I thought might be a wedding dress, she asked, "Were you the pirate captain or part of the crew?"

"Cap'n Tonks," I said, before I realised what I had admitted.

Ginny giggled at my expression. "I wish I had been that lucky. I always had to be part of the crew and scrub the deck."

I scoffed. "They didn't put yer sharp deadlights to work in the crow's nest? Scurvy dogs. I would have had their lights and livers."

"What's that? Not the crow's nest, I know that's for lookout, but lights…and deadlights."

"Blimey! Never heard tell of deadlights…yer eyes…or yer lights—yer lungs?" I shook my head. "Arrr…landlubbers. I'd make 'em kiss the gunner's daughter for such ignorance."

Ginny snickered. "Fred and George would love to kiss a girl."

I smirked. "This be no girl, but a gun they'd be tied to and flogged over."

"Flogging sounds good."

I laughed and dropped the pirate queen act. "We'll have to play pirates with Sirius one day. He's the one who taught me how." I saw a glimpse of a jacket with braid and held it up. "Harry would be good as British naval officer in hot pursuit of a redheaded pirate."

"He wouldn't chase after me," Ginny said flatly. "Harry wouldn't care enough. He'd let me sail away to someone else."

I tossed the jacket aside. "Well, then forget the promotion to Commodore. He'll be plain Captain Harry, and we'll capture his ship and make him walk the plank."

She started to smile. "Walk the plank?"

"He'll be shark bait."

"I can send him down to Davey Jones' locker?"

"And make him play spin the bottle to get out."

Ginny looked at me. I waggled my eyebrows. We burst into laughter.

I continued my hunt for the wedding dress. "Time and tide wait for no pirate, lass. Get ter scavengin'."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!"

Within minutes, I had found a strand of pearls, a pair of ivory slippers, and a magically preserved bouquet of white roses, but not the wedding dress that matched them. Ginny had already found a Regency ball gown in blue satin with sheer sleeves and silver trim to try on.

"If only I could have worn  _this_ to the Yule Ball instead of that horrid little-girl dress mum sent me!" Swaying side to side, Ginny murmured, "He wouldn't have looked past me to Cho, then!"

I was tired of searching for the dress. It was time to use some magic. " _Accio_  wedding dress!"

Two gowns burst up through the mound of clothing. One was white, lacy, and Victorian. The other was a daring Edwardian gown of ivory satin with a sleeveless, corseted bodice and a gathered skirt.

"Which one will you try on?"

I asked Ginny, "Which one says  _Walburga_ to you?"

"That one. Lace sleeves, high neck. Very pure-blood."

I tossed the gown aside. "I don't want to play the old hag anymore." I patted my blonde curls. "Victorian doesn't go with my Rosmerta hair." I gathered my loot and went behind the crate to change. When I came out, Ginny clapped her hands together. "You look beautiful!"

"Yes, you do."

I stared at Remus. Part of me was embarrassed to be caught acting the silly girl. Another part loved the way his eyes caressed me. My toes curled in my slippers, and for an instant, I imagined there was sand beneath my bare feet, and a celebrant waiting at my love's side.

I blinked when Remus gave the mess a brief, amused look. "I thought you had left. Imagine my surprise when I heard Kreacher muttering about infidels playing dress up in the attic."

I shook the bouquet at him. "You heard 'infidel' and immediately thought of me? Thank you very much!" I'm sure my scold would have made more of an impact if I hadn't been laughing. I turned around in the dress. "Look, it fits perfectly, and isn't Ginny's gown wonderful too?"

Remus bowed. "Indeed. You look lovely, Miss Weasley."

Ginny curtsied. "Thank you, Professor Lupin."

Remus glanced at his watch. "I hate to curtail your fun, but an hour and a half has gone by, and you must be off to work, Nymphadora." He took a step closer and said softly, "I thought you were going to take a nap, or at least buy a Wake-Up Potion."

His concerned professor look was so cute. I smiled. "Don't worry. Ginny found me some Up-And-At-'Em pills, and I feel fine. More than fine, actually. Alert and ready to take on the world!"

"How many pills did you take?"

"Three. I figured if two was good, three would do the job in keeping me alert all day." I felt my cheeks stretch in a grin. "What would Scrimgeour say if I showed up in this rig?"

" _My Mistress' dress! The freak is wearing Mistress' wedding dress!"_

I gaped to see Kreacher standing in the doorway, clutching his chest as if he was about to have a heart attack. "This isn't her dress!" I pointed to the heap of Victorian lace. "That is!"

The house-elf Disapparated and then reappeared with a photograph. He thrust it at me. "Pictures is not lying! You is defiling Mistress' dress!"

Ginny and Remus crowded on either side of me to look at the photograph. In it, a man who resembled both Sirius and Morty stood beside a woman sitting on a chair, gazing proudly at the camera. It was Walburga Black, stern and striking, minus the ravages of age and madness. Her dress was the same one I wore now.

In the picture, the woman curled her lip at me. I stuck out my tongue and thrust the frame back into Kreacher's hands. "So it was her dress. So what? I look better in it, and if the old witch doesn't like it, she can come down from her painting and tell me so!"

The elf's watery eyes overflowed. "I has wished, so many times, for that to happen!"

I said, "Fine. I'll take off the dress and you can have it. Add it to your memorial collection down in the basement."

Kreacher drew back, appearing mortally offended. "I is not wanting the dress now it is  _defiled!"_

I threw the bouquet at his head. "Then get the hell out of here before I kick your miserable arse down the bloody stairs!"

The elf caught the flowers and smiled behind them as he backed away. "Maybe I is wanting the dress, after all."

Remus caught me by the arms and restrained me from following Kreacher to give him a kick. "He can't help it. His mind has been warped by a lifetime of abuse. Pity him, Nymphadora."

"I'll pity him after I plant this pointy shoe up his..." I remembered Ginny and ceased struggling. "Sorry," I told them both. "I'm not exactly a model of self-control this morning."

"I don't know whether that is from lack of sleep or those pills," said Remus. "Frankly, I'm concerned."

I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "I'll be fine. I'll skive off early and avoid arseho—uh, antagonistic people during the day."

Remus said, "That's impossible. You work at the Ministry."

I burst out laughing. Ginny giggled.

Remus's smile was rueful. "I was not implying that you work with, ah, antagonistic people."

"You may as well say the one that expresses your feelings best," I said, imitating the way Ginny had pronounced the words earlier.

She clapped her palm over her mouth, shoulders shaking.

Remus's lips twitched. "Ladies, mindful of the time, I leave you to change."

I said the moment he closed the door. "Wouldn't he make a lovely Regency Romance hero?"

Ginny said, "He reminds me of Col. Brandon in Sense and Sensibility." She smiled at me. "You'd be Marianne Dashwood."

I put my hands on my hips. "You don't think of me as the sensible sister, Elinor?"

"No, that's Hermione."

My brow furrowed as I tried to remember the plot. "I hope there isn't a Lucy Steele to come between Ron and Hermione, then."

"Or a Mr. Willoughby, for you."

I made a face. "Oh, there's been a Willoughby, and he made me appreciate a Brandon all the more!" Struck by a thought, I said, "Perhaps a boy who fixates on a girl Willoughby...or a Lucy Steele...will appreciate one who suits him even more, afterwards."

"I hope so!" Ginny hugged me and ran to change behind the crate.

Before I left Grimmauld, I promised Remus I would stop by the Forensics and Potions Department to ask Edmund Blofeld, my old Potions partner, about the Up-And-At-'Em pills. After I showered and changed at my flat, however, there was no time. I would have to ask after the meeting.

 

 

Once I was ushered into the Head of Aurors' office, I immediately noticed the blonde sitting in one of the chairs.

Scrimgeour said, "Auror Tonks, this is—"

"We've met," the woman said with a smile, crossing her legs and extending a hand.

I remained standing, throwing my boss an incredulous look before telling whoever it was pretending to be Narcissa Malfoy, "First off, Narcissa wouldn't shake hands with someone she considers a half-blood freak, much less smile like she's at a garden party when she sitting in this office. Second, the outfit is all wrong. She's into classic elegance, not . . . ." I waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever that is."

The woman looked down at her beige sheath dress. "This is in perfectly good taste."

"It looks Muggle-made and cheap. She wouldn't wear it."

"I suppose you could do better?"

I glanced at Scrimgeour.

He nodded. "Please."

I transfigured my clothing first. Once I stood in a sleeveless v-back white dress and white leather slides, I concentrated on shifting my features.

"She's using Polyjuice, you're morphed, and I can't tell the difference." Scrimgeour shook his head. "Quite remarkable."

"I act in community plays," the other Narcissa said. "I'm far more qualified with far more experience than this...girl."

I curled my lip. "That doesn't make you better, just older."

She raised a hand as if she wanted to rip out my hair. I kept my expression cool, but my eyes told the witch to bring it on. I might have calmed down since the episode with Kreacher, but I was still more than ready to kick arse.

Scrimgeour pushed his chair back and stood. "Shall we put this to the test?" He waved a hand toward the door.

The other woman immediately headed for it. I stayed put. "A gentleman always opens the door for a lady," I said in answer to his questioning gaze. I walked slowly toward the door. "Of course, I shouldn't expect basic courtesies in  _this_ place _._ "

"Allow me." Scrimgeour strode past me and opened the door. I smirked at the other Narcissa and strolled into the corridor.

My beige-wearing competition edged me out to walk beside the boss, but I didn't care. No way in Hades would Narcissa Malfoy promenade with the Head of Aurors. She would do what I did, deliberately walk several paces behind and act as though she neither knew nor cared that we were attracting attention.

Our destination was an interview room, one with a couple of big two-way mirrors for all the spectators outside to gather around. Ms. “far more experience” took a seat on one side and crossed her legs. I remained standing. "Am I being charged with something? I want to contact my solicitor."

Scrimgeour said calmly, "You are only being interviewed and need not answer any questions. Therefore, Ministry regulations do not require a solicitor be present." He gestured for a couple of men hovering in the doorway to enter. "These Aurors will conduct a brief interview, and then you will be free to go."

I sat on the opposite side of the table as my rival and kept my knees and ankles together and slightly to the side. I had noticed her placing one hand atop the other on her lap, so I laced my fingers.

Aurors Dalziel and Clarke introduced themselves while Scrimgeour left the room. The pair could have passed for brothers, heavyset and pasty-faced, but Dalziel was the dominant one, loud and rude. "Which one of you birds is Narcissa Malfoy?"

"I am," said the other woman.

I looked away.

I could hear the squeak of Dalziel's shoes as he turned to her. "Begging your pardon, ma'am, but how are we to know you aren't a gobshite?"

While she sputtered and acted offended, he turned to me. "Smiling a bit, are we? We think that's funny?"

I turned my head to meet his antagonistic gaze, superior smirk in place. "Mildly amusing is you using the royal 'we'."

"You aren't posh enough," Clarke told his partner with a smile, obviously trying to get on my good side.

"Mrs. Malfoy here...if she  _is_ Mrs. Malfoy...certainly is, though." Dalziel lumbered around the table to give me an insulting once-over. "That's a right posh dress you're wearin'. French, is it?"

"Italian."

"Eye-talian..." Dalziel barked at the other woman. "Where's your dress from?"

"Paris."

I snorted.

Clarke said, "You don't believe her?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "She could have found it in Paris...in a Muggle shop, off the rack."

The pretender didn't like Clarke's chuckle at her expense. She began demanding to speak to a solicitor, or her husband, who had friends in high places, all the way up to the Minister for Magic and would have their jobs if they did not release her at once.

Dalziel moved his bulk into my personal space. "Why aren't you demanding anything?"

I said frostily, "My husband will be here shortly. Until then, I prefer to exchange as few words with you people as possible."

"Well, that's too bad, because we have more questions you need to answer."

Clarke saw my pursed expression and said, "May I get you anything?"

"Coffee," said the other woman.

I quipped, "A drink."

Dalziel snickered. "I wouldn't take you for a drinker. I've never seen you in a bar."

I smirked. "You drink in the wrong bars."

The pretender, in an attempt to regain the Aurors' attention, said, "I don't drink, even in bars."

I sneered. "That's why you look so dehydrated."

She turned red and lunged across the table.

I jumped up and hid behind Dalziel. "The woman is insane. She belongs in St. Mungo's!"

Dalziel and Clarke looked at each other.

"The information we have is the Malfoy woman drinks," Clarke said.

Dalziel told the pretender, "Get out of here, and do your research next time."

I called over a beefy shoulder, "Take your shoddy shoes with you!"

Clark guffawed. Dalziel turned to me with a grin. "Damn, you're good!"

I backed away. "I want to see my husband."

"You don't have to pretend anymore," Clarke said. "You can tell us. Who are you?"

"Narcissa Malfoy. I demand you owl my husband at once."

Dalziel scowled. "I don't know what you're trying to pull here."

"I am not pulling anything! I have been victimised and insulted and…."

"You have convinced me that you are the best Auror for the assignment. There is no need to continue," Scrimgeour said, entering the interview room.

I jerked my head toward the two-way mirrors.

Behind his glasses, tawny eyes gleamed with approval. "Let us return to my office."

"Aren't you going to tell us who you are?" said Clarke, when I made to follow Scrimgeour from the room.

I winked at him. "Call me Cissy."

Back in my boss' office, I returned my features and clothing to their original state and sat in a chair, waiting for him to speak. He held a folder with a familiar name on it—Malfoy.

"If you take this assignment, you will report directly to me and I will expect complete secrecy." He held out the folder. "Upon successful completion, you and your partner will be discretely promoted and given more challenging casework."

I took the folder. "And all I have to do is become Narcissa Malfoy?"

Scrimgeour's lips turned up. "No, I need you to become Lucius."


	9. Shadow Spinner

 

"You want me to morph into Lucius Malfoy."

My tone was even, unemotional. Scrimgeour inclined his head approvingly. "Yes."

"Overnight?"

"If it takes you that long to complete the mission."

"Which is?"

He gestured to the folder in my hands. I opened it to scan a list of Dark objects reported to be in Malfoy's possession. I was to verify whether the allegation was true and document the locations of said items. "Why not raid and be done with it?"

A look of frustration crossed Scrimgeour's face. "Lucius Malfoy is extremely well connected. If a search of his home is conducted and no Dark Magic items are recovered, those connections will be brought to bear against this office."

His expression was grim. I couldn't help trying to lighten it. "Good to know the king believes in CYA like the little people."

Scrimgeour gave a huff of laughter. "Yes,  _cover your arse_ applies to every Auror rank."

Beneath the list of purported Dark objects was a final instruction to find and photograph a certain letter. A frisson ran down my spine. Was this verification mission a ruse to enact a private enquiry for the Head of Aurors? I said carefully, "Sir, the final...item...that you wish photographed."

_"Yes?"_

It was in his tone, the invitation to speak now if I had any objections. He could get Ms. Experienced Actor back to do the job, and I could return to investigating reports made by lonely old jossers: indefinitely. I glanced down to conceal frustration. I didn't like the way the boss slipped in the side job, combining personal enquiry with official business, but I wasn't going to object. Maybe he saw the situation differently. What affected him personally would affect the Auror Office too. I asked, "Shall I take those pictures with a separate camera?"

His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Yes, that would be best."

When I left, I fought the urge to snap at the personal assistant who told me to have a nice day. It wasn't her fault I was conflicted about Scrimgeour's motives...and my own.

 

At the end of the narrow corridor separating the cubicles of junior Aurors, I walked into my office and snapped, "Wake up, Connelly."

He jerked upright in the chair. "I was just resting my eyes."

I sat behind the desk and picked up the cup of coffee resting on a pile of folders. "For me? Thanks."

"Uh, no, actually, I've been drinking that."

After taking a long sip, I said, "You don't have cooties, do you?"

"Cooties?"

I drank the rest of the coffee and came around the desk. "Muggle slang used by schoolchildren to describe an imaginary, horrid affliction you get from contact with the opposite sex. Give me your arm."

"What for?"

I pushed up his robe to expose a freckled forearm. "You need a cootie jab." I drew two circles on his arm while saying, "Circle, circle, dot, dot, now you have your cootie shot."

_"Ouch!"_

I hadn't thought I poked that hard when “injecting” the cootie jab/shot, but my partner was rubbing his skin as if I'd gouged him. I was tempted to slug him in the arm to take his mind off the other pain.

Instead, I perched on the edge of the desk. "Stop whinging and tell me what's up."

"Only one file was in the inbox. Lady reporting her neighbour for suspected Dark Magic use."

I strode over to the dartboard. Jerking a dart out, I marched off the paces and took my best shot. It was off centre. I said, "Let's hope that isn't an omen."

 

 

Forty-five minutes later, I was sitting on a floral sofa, trying not to let my impatience show.

The young stay-at-home mother we interviewed acted thrilled to talk to adults. While she spoke at rapid pace, her little boy crawled on the rug beside my feet. He was chubby, tow-headed and obviously not a Slytherin. He had no sense of self-preservation. Everything he saw he tried to put into his mouth.

After wresting a Butterbeer cork and a Sickle out of his smiling grasp, I stared meaningfully at Jerry until he caught the hint and nicely interrupted the woman's monologue. "Thank you for your cooperation, ma'am."

Outside, I led the way to the neighbour's house, muttering, "Thank you for talking my ear off."

"C'mon, Tonks. She stays home with the baby all day. Don't blame her for wanting to have a chat."

I shrugged uncomfortably. "Yeah, I know." I sighed. "I'm going home after this. I haven't had any sleep, and it's making me tetchy.

Jerry grinned.  _"Tetchy?"_

"You were thinking witchy? Bitchy?"

"I refuse to answer since my arm still hurts from that cootie jab."

I let Jerry rap on the front door and inform Mr. Gallagher that we were there to do a search according to Ministry regulation, so on and so forth. The young man let us in and stood glowering while we cast our spells to ensure the home was free of Dark objects and that Dark Magic spells had not been cast recently.

"I told Patsy that she shouldn't make friends with that chatterbox. Woman never stops talking. I work nights a lot. She kept visiting with the baby while I tried to sleep, driving me spare." He shook his head. "I may have told her I'd hex her into permanent silence, but I didn't mean it."

My partner and I exchanged brief nods. There were no traces of Dark Magic.

I said, "Next time, don't threaten. Just tell her to shut the hell up."

He smiled. "Believe me, I will."

Once we returned to the Ministry, Jerry volunteered to write up the report so I could go home. Before I could leave, however, I had to keep my promise to Remus.

In his lab in the Forensics and Potions Divisions, my old mate Blofeld hunched over a beaker, staring intently. He always reminded me of a crow.

I strolled in to stand beside him. "What's going to happen, Eddy?"

"Edmund, if you please. If the test is negative...nothing."

I took a cautious step back. After a few minutes, he turned to me with a dark look. "Nothing."

"What were you hoping for?"

His lips twitched. "Nothing I'm authorised to share."

I made a face. "Fine. I just want to ask if you know anything about Up-And-At-'Em pills."

"I've taken them myself. Siren Pharmaceuticals...a  _eugeroic_."

"Translation?"

" _Eugeroic,_ Greek, meaning 'good arousal.' He saw the look on my face and smirked. "It isn't a sexual aid. The product claims natural-feeling alertness and wakefulness without the physical and mental side effects of other stimulants." He looked at me as though I was a beaker of test solution. "Why do you ask?"

"I took three this morning."

His cool fingers clasped my wrist. "Your heart rate is accelerated, which is as expected. The recommended dose is no more than two in a twenty-four hour period."

"Should I go to St. Mungo's?"

"What are your symptoms?"

"I'm impatient, even a little aggressive."

"Jittery?" Before I answered, he told me, "Classic over-stimulation pattern. You'll transition from jitters to euphoria and then crash, awakening once your body recovers." He shook his head. "You don't need to go to St. Mungo's. Go home."

"Thanks, Edmund."

He waved a dismissive hand, his attention already turned to another test.

 

 

Over-stimulated didn't begin to describe what I felt when I walked into my flat to find Remus waiting for me. No man on the planet looked better in brown. He was scrummy as chocolate, and I couldn't wait to taste him.

He set aside the book he was reading. "I've been hoping you would leave work early. How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Better than fine…the husky timbre of his voice caressed my ears the way Remus's slightly calloused fingertips touched my face.

He noticed my shiver and frowned. "What did Blofeld say about the pills?"

I leaned toward him, breathing deeply. Gods, he smelled incredible. Masculine and musky with a hint of…. "Did you drink hot chocolate recently?"

"Yes, I stopped by to say hello to Jan."

"Did you have whipped cream? Let me see." I kissed him boldly, swirling my tongue. "Mmm…a sprinkle of cacao powder."

My fingers played with his hair while Remus said, "Yes…ah…the pills?"

I smiled wickedly and kissed him again. " _Eugeroic."_

Something hot flared in amber eyes before Remus drew back. "A good arousal?"

"Stimulating wakefulness, not libido." I took another chocolate-flavoured kiss.

Remus looked so doubtful, I laughed while removing my robes and tugging at the hem of his jumper. After he took it off, I began unfastening the buttons on his shirt.

"I think there might be a correlation somewhere between the two," he murmured.

I kissed him deeply. "Well, he did say I would follow the pattern of over-stimulation." I trailed kisses across to his ear and whispered, "Go from jittery, to euphoric, to crashing." Merlin, his earlobe was adorable. I gently took it between my teeth.

Remus cleared his throat. "Jittery?"

I climbed onto his lap to reach his other ear. "You know, like from caffeine, when you're addicted and haven't had it. Your body craves it." I breathed into his ear. "So badly, you'd do anything for it."

"Anything?"

I melted all over him, clinging, shaking. "Anything."

He stood and swept me into his arms.

In the bedroom, the windows were open to allow the breeze, but shutters dimmed the sunlight. Diffused warmth heightened my euphoria and enfolded me like a blanket when I crashed.

 

 

A couple of days later, I almost tripped and crashed down the stairs on my way to night duty. The day had been hectic, with half a dozen investigations and to top it off, Connelly asked me at the last minute to have dinner with him and Meg. She really wanted to meet me.

I had gone after owling Remus to tell Molly not to set a place for me. I should have said no.

Meg was very nice, but she’d brought a friend along: a male friend who was also nineteen. Sean thought my pink hair and occupation as an enquiry agent were ace.

I’d asked if he was an Ace of Base fan, rather proud I’d remembered the name of the Muggle band my cousin Lora liked.

Sean wasn't a fan of pop music, but I saw the sign that he was trying to get on with me when he asked for my phone number. Cheerfully, I’d told him that I already had a boyfriend.

Thinking about Remus caused me to hum  _All That She Wants_  as I entered the corridor to the Department of Mysteries.

"Shhh."

I stifled a giggle, remembering song lyrics. I was the hunter, he was the fox, and Remus had given away his position. He was sitting across from where he usually sat. I dropped to all fours and concentrated as hard as I could to stealthily creep forward so he wouldn't see the blur of my Disillusionment Charm. When my fingers touched fabric, I pounced. My aim was off. Instead of kissing his mouth, my lips grazed his nose and slid down…and down….

The shoulders beneath my hands were lean like my lover's, but that nose! I whispered hopefully, like a little girl hoping a nightmare wasn’t real, "Remus?"

"No."

I rolled to the side and scrubbed my lips with the back of my hand.  _Snape cooties! Oh gods. I almost kissed Snape!_

He said dryly, "I take it from those noises I was not the intended victim of your assault."

I scooted backwards until I hit the wall. "Why isn't Remus here?"

Something rustled, as if a malevolent bat twitched his wings. "Are you accusing me of contriving to be here in his stead?"

I rubbed my arms. Snape had lowered the temperature with his icy voice. "No," I said in a small voice. "I'm worried."

"How sweet." His tone implied the opposite. Snape exhaled sharply. "Lupin was informed that a meeting to discuss the recent werewolf legislation is being held tonight. I was unfortunate enough to be passing along instructions from Dumbledore when he received the owl."

"Oh…sorry."

"For the assault or questioning my presence?"

"Both."

"Accepted."

Silence fell. After a few minutes, I whispered, "Hey, Snape?"

He did not reply.

I rolled my eyes. "I know we're on guard duty, but do you really think a Death Eater is going to burst into the corridor, waving his wand?"

"No. He would slip into the corridor and point his wand toward the sound of your voice while uttering a Killing Curse."

I tried again. "Answer one question, will you?"

There was a moment of silence before his sardonic voice replied, "The way I answered questions in Potions, I suppose? You would ask one, and then another, until I had talked you through each step."

"I didn't do that often."

"Often enough."

I contorted my face in most juvenile ways I could, since Mr. Cootie wouldn't be able to see.

"Did you just blow a raspberry?"

Damn! I had. I brazened it out. "Who, me?"

"Yes, you."

I was reminded of a childhood game. "Couldn't be."

"Then who?"

I snickered.

There was a hiss of irritation. Snape said, "Ask your question and then be silent."

"OK. Can I learn to make Wolfsbane Potion?"

"No."

I took a shuddery breath.

Snape said irritably, "If you cry, I will stun you until Lupin arrives."

I had to know. "Why can't I learn to brew the potion?"

I heard a noise that may have been grinding teeth. "You could be taught, but it would take months of instruction. The procedure is exacting and far too advanced for someone of your limited skills to attempt on their own."

I sat up straight. "Limited?"

"Have you stirred a cauldron since leaving Hogwarts?"

I slumped. "No."

"What did I tell every class about Potions?"

I was instantly taken back to first year, staring wide-eyed at the towering, intimidating figure who said,  _"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making."_ He wasn't a handsome professor girls sighed over, or a kindly professor well liked, but he had a voice that ensnared the ears and bewitched the mind into imagining  _the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes._

From memory, I recited, " _I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."_ I sighed. "Maybe I am a dunderhead. I can't find a way to be with Remus on full moons."

Silence fell.

Snape released a heavy breath. "The precise phrasing was 'as big a bunch of dunderheads.'"

"What does that mean?"

His tone was scathing. "You are certainly not exceeding expectations tonight. How did Lupin's cohorts find a way to be with him? You do not  _really_ believe the fairytale that werewolves are no danger to other animals, do you?"

Remus had eaten those rabbits. I shook my head, even though Snape couldn't see it. "But Dumbledore—"

"Dumbledore told them Lupin would be calmed by their presence, yes, so he informed me after I learned Black, Potter, and Pettigrew were Animagi." His voice lowered. "He never qualified why that was so, however, which I find very interesting."

"Why?"

He huffed. "Once again, you attempt to inveigle your way into being talked through the steps." After a pause, Snape said, "Aurors are supposed to be clever. Figure it out."

Since my mind felt more Winnie the Pooh, stuffed with fluff at the moment, I decided to think about it later. Soon afterwards, a click sounded.

I smiled to hear Remus's quiet, "Thank you for covering for me, Severus."

"Good night," said Snape, his footfalls almost as silent as Remus's.

I waited until I heard the door shut to say, "You could have owled."

Remus padded over and dropped down beside me. "Was it an unpleasant surprise?"

I could be vague, or I could tell the truth. "I pounced on him thinking he was you and kissed his nose."

The body next to mine shook with silent laugher. "Was it…greasy?"

His voice was choked. I pounced again, this time taking my prey's face in my hands. I kissed his nose. "Only compared to your perfect one."

Remus chuckled and began to rub his nose along mine. "What did you do when you discovered your mistake?"

"Rolled away and scrubbed off the cooties."

He barked with laughter.

I said, "Cooties are very contagious. I'd better make sure we're both up-to-date with our immunisations."

I heard the grin in his voice. "Cootie jabs?"

"Oral immunisation." I kissed him, managing to administer the correct dosage while keeping one eye on the door.

 

 

Remus had promised not to tell Sirius about the Snape cooties, but I hadn't thought to ask him not to tell my cousin about the upcoming mission.

The night before Lucius would be detained and eventually Obliviated, Remus was lying on the bed watching me practice lifting a Slytherin brow in the mirror.

A dog bounded into the room. Snuffles transformed into Sirius, who said, "I always thought Malfoy was effeminate."

I had only morphed my face and hair. I shifted back to normal while the men laughed, grabbing a robe to cover my bra and panties. "What are you doing here?"

Sirius assumed a wounded expression. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

I put a hand on my hip. "Yeah, like Father Christmas."

My cousin grinned. "Fancy you saying that. Like Father Christmas, I, too, bear gifts." He pulled out two paper-wrapped squares from robe pockets, handing one to me and the other to Remus, who left the bed to join us.

Sirius jerked his head toward Remus. "I could use a new robe," he murmured while we un-wrapped the paper. "Not that Hufflepuff yellow, though. Good Gryffindor scarlet for me."

"I'll put it on your Christmas list, after switches," I said absently, holding up a small mirror.

"Switches? Do I look naughty to you? Don't answer that." Sirius chuckled.

Remus unwrapped a communication mirror.  "Are these the same ones you and James used to use in detention?"

"Yeah. Brilliant idea, eh, for you two to use them while she's on her Malfoy mission?"

I looked from Remus to Sirius. "You know about that?"

Sirius shrugged. "We were playing cards. The topic came up. You aren't cheesed off, are you? Who am I going to tell?"

I relaxed. "I'm sure Buckbeak would keep silent."

Remus said with a smile, "Have these mirrors been cleaned  _ever?"_

"No, mate. Their magic makes the mirrors impervious to cleaning and tarnish removing spells. You'd have to clean the Muggle way."

I grimaced. "Then they can stay filthy for all I care. It won't affect communication, right?"

"Right. Say his name."

"Remus." I looked down to see his face smiling at me—clean and clear—from the reflective surface of the mirror. I hugged Sirius. "Thank you! I'll have a mirror for Ministry use, but this is so much better!"

"It's only a loan. If I think Harry might need them…."

I nodded. "Of course." I pinched his cheek. "What a good dad you'll make."

Sirius made a face. "Let me figure out how to be a decent godfather first."

Remus clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You have time."

"That's all I have at the moment. Time on my hands."

Sirius's tone was edged in bitterness. I exchanged a look with Remus before saying, "Right now, it's time for gelato. I've got  _Stracciatella."_

"Vanilla and Chocolate, Remus's favourite. How sweet."

Thinking how much Sirius sounded like Snape kept me giggling all the way to the kitchen.

 

 

Searching Malfoy Manor was no easy matter. The place was bloody huge, and the objects weren't all hidden conveniently underneath the drawing room floor.

My saving grace was that the servants avoided their Master like the plague. Since Malfoy had been tricked into freeing his house-elf, his employees seemed wary of triggering his temper.

That was good news for me, since a housekeeper or footman following me about asking if they might be of service would have put a cramp in my search, extending it indefinitely. Instead, I was left to my own devices, and within two hours had located and photographed every Dark object on the list.

In the library, I found the letter I was sent to photograph in a secret compartment inside a desk drawer. I removed my second Goblin spy camera and took several photographs. Several of the lines burnt into my mind.

**I have heard distressing rumours that a certain group is lobbying to force my resignation and have Scrimgeour replace me as Minister of Magic. Use your connections to determine the truth of this threat…and deal with it accordingly…or I shall be of no further use to you.**

I had just replaced the letter and shut the drawer when a teenaged boy stormed into the room. He was pale and aristocratic, with a sulky look to his mouth.

"I  _told_ Mother you wouldn't forget, but she said you'd gone into the city already."

I said carefully, "I went in, and then I came back."

Narcissa Malfoy's voice entered the library before she did. "Draco, darling, I promise after my crystal reading, I'll take you…." She came to a dead halt. "Oh! Lucius." She blinked in surprise. "You returned."

I lifted a corner of my mouth. "Don't everyone rejoice at once."

Narcissa said, "I should have known you were listening while resting your eyes last night, as you told me."

My gaze flickered to the boy with eyes of an identical shade of grey as his father's. He smirked. I returned it and watched his face relax into a true smile of pleasure. Poor kid, he probably didn't merit much of Lucius's attention.

I asked Narcissa, "This crystal reading…?"

"Won't be above an hour. If you take Draco shopping for his school supplies, I'll meet you for tea." Her ice-queen façade cracked when she said, "A couple of hours out of your week. Surely, you don't mind sparing the time."

I lifted a brow. "Have I not gone shopping before? I see no reason for getting into a dither about it."

Draco said, "I told you he wouldn't forget his promise, didn't I, Mother?"

Narcissa's smile was eerily similar to my own mother's. "Yes, darling, you did." She walked toward me. "Do you have the list of books?"

I lifted the parchment that puzzled me when first I'd seen it on the desk and wondered why Malfoy got sent a copy of the booklist earlier than other parents.

Now I knew. Fudge was toadying to his rich benefactor. After a quick glance, I said, "There are only two new ones. We shall have plenty of time to visit the Quidditch supply shop."

Draco's eyes lit up. Narcissa seemed pleased as well. I thought to myself how sad that they were so eager for scraps of attention and time.

I had told my boss I didn't regard these people as family, but that was before I saw behind their public image. Now I wanted to know more, although, if I was prudent, I would have brushed off the family outing as callously as the real Lucius Malfoy had.

I decided to go with my Black streak and withdrew a heavy money purse from a drawer. Slipping it into a pocket, I gestured for my family to precede me to the Floo.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to several web sources, cooties as a term (first for lice, then for an imaginary, unspecified, playground bane) originated in the US in the 40's and travelled across the pond, probably spread by GI's. :D I had fun snickering over eugeroic, Snape cooties and Ace of Base lyrics and hope readers did too. For those who expected more Malfoy this chap, I think you'll enjoy the father/son bonding in the next one. ;)
> 
> If anyone’s interested in a Remus pov companion fic to this story (starting with this chapter), I’d love you to read _From the Battered Journal of Remus J. Lupin_.


	10. Family of Shadow

Narcissa was the first one to Floo to Diagon Alley. I gestured for Draco to go next, but he darted out of the room. A few moments later, he ran back. "Here you go, Father." He held a silver-topped cane.

I took it from him with a slight smile. "I would have felt quite underdressed without it."

Draco grabbed a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the marble fireplace, smiling as he said, "Diagon Alley!"

When I was alone, I swished the cane about and tried to twist the top. There was no hidden sword inside, which was a bit of a disappointment. Villains should have better toys. A different kind of villain came to mind, causing me to smirk as I reached for the Floo powder. "Come along, pimp cane. There are people to sneer at and shopping to be done!"

The portal to Diagon Alley was outside the Leaky Cauldron. I found Narcissa and Draco waiting. I glanced at my timepiece. "Do you not have an appointment, m'dear?"

Her eyes darted about anxiously. "These days, I fear it is not safe to leave children unattended."

I answered the way I thought Lucius would have. "Our son is hardly a child, and anyone who trifles with him answers to me."

My family gazed at me with such adoration, it was discomforting.

Narcissa said, "I shall not worry, then." She smiled. "Madam Urquhart's Café in an hour?"

I inclined my head. When she glided off, Draco moved to my side. "Did you mean what you said about my not being a child, Father?"

I studied his eager face. "Yes."

"So you'll let me take the mark early?"

I concealed my dismay. I didn't want this boy to become a Death Eater! Expressionlessly, I said, "No."

Draco's lips turned down.

I recognised the look of a teen gearing up to argue. I tried to forestall a confrontation. "You are of better service at school."

"You always say that."

I did the parent thing and ignored the low, resentful mutter. Striding toward the cauldron shop, I gestured at the display window with my walking stick. "Need a new one?"

"No. I'm not an incompetent like Longbottom."

We passed the Owl Emporium and magical instruments shop. When we strolled by Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, a girl's voice cried, "Draco!"

The boy threw me a look to gauge my reaction before greeting the girl who rushed up to plaster herself to his side. "Hello, Pansy."

"Hello, Draco, hello, Mr. Malfoy," she said while keeping her gaze riveted to Draco's face.

"Miss Parkinson," I murmured, amused. The girl might have a pug face, but at least she had the dogged devotion to go with it.

"You didn't answer my last owl, but I took a chance and made Father bring me shopping today anyway," Pansy told Draco, reaching up to smooth his hair.

His head jerked back.

She said apologetically, "There was a strand out of place."

"Oh. Thanks."

I had an inkling the pair might stand chatting this way indefinitely. I said briskly, "We'd best be off. Enchanting seeing you again, Miss Parkinson."

"I could go shopping with you. I'm sure Father wouldn't mind. I'll run back to the Emporium and—"

"No," Draco said. "Father and I made plans."

Pansy's expression was hangdog. I found myself saying, "We shall have tea at Madam Urquhart's in an hour if you would care to join us, Miss Parkinson."

All smiles again, she squeezed Draco's arm before releasing him. Backing away, nodding, she bumped into a younger girl. Pansy shoved her away. "Look where you're going, Mudblood!"

I didn't care for that kind of talk, but I was hardly in a position to say so. I turned on my heel.

Draco walked quickly to catch up. "I'm sorry, Father. I know she annoys you. If you want, I'll go tell Pansy not to show her face at tea."

I exhaled sharply. "I have no objection to your friendship with Miss Parkinson, and there are those who annoy me far worse. Let us speak no further upon the subject." Peering sideways, I caught the relief in Draco’s smile and felt the tug of pity that struck me earlier. He really loved his parents. The kid couldn't be all bad. He definitely needed a girlfriend who wouldn't repeat his mother's pattern and spoil him rotten, though.

Weirdly, Ginny Weasley's face popped into mind. I almost laughed out loud. Molly wouldn't thank me for pink-haired grandbabies. I shrugged off the freakish matchmaking idea and quickened my stride.

"Do you need to make a stop in Knockturn Alley, Father?"

"Not today." I turned into Madam Malkin's.

The proprietor immediately left the customer she was serving to approach us. "Young Mr. Malfoy's school robes are ready, as are the dress robes Mrs. Malfoy ordered. Shall I box them for you?"

"Deliver them," I said. An evening wrap with jet beading caught my eye. I pointed with my cane. "Put that wrap on my account as well."

Madam Malkin beamed. "Yes, sir."

The witch who had been ignored while we were taken care of made an indignant noise when we made to leave. I fixed her with a cool stare. The colour drained out of her cheeks.

Outside, Draco said, "I wish I could do that to Potter, make him look ready to soil his trousers."

"Don't hold your breath." That sounded too Tonks, so I said, "Some people will never back down. The fools will laugh in your face while you curse them." I wasn't only speaking of Harry. Sirius was that way, and I could be reckless like that, too, on occasion.

"I won't laugh if someone tries to curse me. I'll run."

The boy's mumbled speech earned a wry smile. "Self-preservation is part of the Slytherin creed."

Next door, on the pavement in front of Flourish and Blott's, a blind old beggar stood hat in hand. He called out, "Curse breaker I was, until a curse broke me. Help a bloke what's waiting for Gringotts to pay his rightful pension."

Lucius Malfoy would never give to a charity he couldn't write off or garner publicity from, so I reluctantly shouldered my way past.

I felt fingers touch my hair. "Are you a woman or a man?"

Passers-by snickered. Keeping to my role, I extended my cane and smirked when the beggar stumbled and fell back onto his arse. Sickles and Knuts rained down upon the pavement.

Inside the bookshop, Draco finally stopped laughing to gasp, "Good one, Father!"

Stomach twisting with shame, I forced myself to half-smile. "This stick isn't merely for show, m'boy."

"No, sir!"

I strolled up to the counter where the clerk hurriedly finished ringing up a customer in order to retrieve the new schoolbooks. "Here you are, Mr. Malfoy."

I carelessly tossed Galleons onto the countertop and handed the paper wrapped bundle to Draco. "Quidditch Supplies?"

"Yes, please!" he said, grinning.

We retraced our steps. Across the street from Eeylops Owl Emporium was Quality Quidditch Supplies. The interior was plain brick enlivened by posters of Quidditch teams. I asked Draco, "What shall we peruse first?"

"Racing brooms!"

I had to admit envying the boy his collection of brooms. I made do with a Comet Two Sixty that couldn't reach full speed in ten seconds even with a decent tailwind. Draco broke off his recital of all the racing brooms he had been given from first year onward to declare the Cleansweep Eleven tolerable and the Firebolt brilliant.

I agreed about the Firebolt. "Unsurpassable balance," I said wistfully.

Draco ran his fingertips along the polished ash handle. "Turns with the lightest touch. According to  _Which Broomstick,_ it's much better than the Nimbus 2001."

If the boy was hinting for the Slytherin team to be outfitted with Firebolts, he was hitting up the wrong father. I said quietly, "Far better than Shooting Stars, I should think."

Draco blanched, obviously picturing the Slytherin team trying to play on decrepit school brooms. "Yeah, Nimbuses are fine."

We moved on to look at the Snitches and a variety of different Quidditch gear before heading to Madam Urquhart's. Inside the pureblood-owned cafe decorated in shades of green and silver, Narcissa and Pansy were seated at the table closest to the front window.

"I took the liberty of ordering," Narcissa said.

Draco sat beside Pansy. "Did you order me a hot fudge sundae with extra fudge sauce and whipped cream?"

Oohhh, that sounded good.

"Yes, darling, along with an apple and stilton tart for your father."

I would rather have had the sundae, but Lucius Malfoy licking chocolate off a spoon was too out of character. I had to press my lips together in order not to laugh at the mental image of horrified looks given Lucius if I took Draco's sundae and licked the bowl clean.

Narcissa misinterpreted my expression. "Was I overstepping myself?"

"Of course not." I smiled briefly, wishing I could actually be Lucius for a few minutes so I could kick my own arse for being a bastard. No man should have his family walking on eggshells and tripping over themselves to please him.

After tea was served, I asked Narcissa, "How was your reading?"

"Fine." She waited for Pansy to become engrossed in telling Draco the latest Slytherin gossip and her son to be occupied with his sundae before leaning toward me. "The crystal showed only dark portents." Her lips trembled. "I'm afraid, Lucius! For you, for our family."

I patted her hand awkwardly. "That crystal reading is only for amusement."

She grabbed my hand, her long fingernails digging into my skin. "She foretold death in my family!"

Narcissa's voice was rising into hysterics. Draco and Pansy were now staring with wide eyes. I said sharply, "Calm yourself! The seer is obviously a grasping fraud, preying on your fears to ensure return business. Trust in me, not some murky vision in crystal, and find yourself another hobby, m'dear."

I could no longer handle the way my family gazed at me as though I were godlike. Standing, I placed Galleons on the table. "I have business to attend. Draco, escort your mother home. Miss Parkinson, a pleasure as always."

"Shall...shall I tell cook to expect you for dinner?"

How bloody sad that Narcissa couldn't ask her husband straight out if he were coming home that night. Thoroughly sick of my role as Lucius, I nodded curtly and strode from the cafe, determined to have the Obliviator plant the urge to spend time with his family in Malfoy's twisted mind.

Before I Apparated to the safe house where the real Lucius Malfoy was detained, I returned to Flourish and Blott's. The beggar was still at his post, his battered hat less filled than it had been previously. Without a word, I dumped the rest of the Galleons in Malfoy's money pouch into the man's hat.

As I turned to leave, I felt his fingers brush my hair.

"Woman," he whispered.

I grinned and kept on walking, swinging my cane jauntily.

 

 

Remus chuckled when I told him that playing with the pimp cane was the best part of being Lucius Malfoy.

"I suppose he does pimp for Voldemort, in a manner of speaking," he said, soaping my foot.

We were using Mrs. Black's enormous claw foot tub, with Sirius and Buckbeak's permission. Sirius thought it hilarious that a werewolf and a Metamorphmagus would defile his mother's precious tub, and the Hippogriff appeared to find us entertaining, poking his head in the lavatory now and then to squawk a greeting.

I scooted down further into the bubbles and stretched my leg so he could lather my calf. "Malfoy may wonder why he decided to stay home with the family tonight, but he's lucky I didn't mess with his memories any further."

Remus's fingers slid over my knee in soapy circles. "Implanting resolutions to become a better father, or a false memory of giving away his cane?"

I placed my foot on the side of the tub so he could have easier access to my upper leg. "I wonder if there was some kind of Dark enchantment on that stupid stick," I mused, refusing to answer directly. "Bewitching a person to wave it about, feeling all high and mighty and use it to cut the little people down to size."

"Perhaps," Remus said smilingly.

His fingertips were gliding up the inside of my thigh. I decided to forget about everything except my lover. I leaned forward to kiss him.

The outer door to the bedroom screeched open.

" _Harry, don't go in there!"_

Remus whispered, "Cast a Disillusionment Charm!"

I closed my eyes to concentrate. When I opened them, only bubbles were visible in the bathtub.

In the bedroom, confusion rang in Harry's voice. "I thought you said it was OK for me to come here, that Buckbeak liked my visits."

"And he does," Sirius said heartily. "Today is just...not a good day."

"Why not?"

That was kids for you, always asking why.

After a pause, Sirius said, "It's rather embarrassing, but if you promise not to tell...."

"Of course I promise!"

I wondered if Sirius was deliberately stepping on every squeaky board as he walked toward the lavatory. The half-closed door slowly creaked all the way open. My cousin stood in the doorway and made a sweeping gesture toward the tub. "That's my guilty secret."

"You...you like bubble baths?" Harry's face was contorting as though he were trying desperately not to laugh.

Sirius put a hand over his mouth for an instant before affecting a doleful look. "After Azkaban, do you blame me?"

"No!"

Sirius winked at his captive audience in tub before turning to Harry. "Are you wondering why I choose the old hag's bathtub?"

Harry nodded.

With a wicked smile, Sirius confided, "Because I get to splash water all over her beloved Italian tiles and leave the bath towels on the floor."

"You need two towels?" Harry's green eyes were fixed on the ones stacked beside the tub.

Sirius shrugged. "One's for my hair."

Harry's brow creased. "Where did you get the bubbles?"

"Tonks. She knows I'm partial to," Sirius bent toward the small jug on the floor. "Vanilla."

"Oh. I'll leave you to your bath, then."

"Thanks, mate." Sirius clapped Harry on the shoulder and escorted him out of the room. Within moments, he returned, laughing his head off. "Close call, wasn't it?"

I cupped my hands and threw water at him.

"Hey!" Sirius brushed at the wet patch on his robes. "I save your naked arses, and this is the thanks I get?"

I splashed more water. "Why'd you tell him I gave you the bubbles?"

He stepped out of soaking range. "Was I supposed to say  _Molly_  purchased the bubble bath?"

I made a chopping motion with my palm to spray a longer distance. "Harry wouldn't get the wrong idea about you and Molly!"

Sirius barked with laughter. "He's an innocent boy compared to how I was at his age. He doesn't think we're taking bubble baths together." With an evil grin, he said, "Even though there was that memorable occasion."

The water rippled. Remus said, "What's this?"

Sirius leaned against the doorjamb. "Christmas holiday, third or fourth year, I ran off to Andromeda’s and Ted's. That night, I was almost asleep in the tub when a tiny tot, with her eyes all aglow, jumped in with me."

I threw a sea sponge at him. "I was no more than two! I didn't know better!"

Sirius chuckled. "I yelled, you cried, and I had to make a beard out of bubbles and answer to 'Ho Ho' before you'd leave me in peace."

I reached for the soap to hurl it.

Remus took the bar out of my grasp and pulled me over to lie atop him. "Thank you for the timely rescue and the story, mate, but why wasn't the door warded like you told us it would be?"

"Funny thing, that. I forgot I told Harry how to release the ward so he could visit Bucky."

I couldn't see my love's face, but I found his lips easily. "M'kay, bye, Sirius," I said between kisses.

"Bye? I can't leave yet. Harry thinks I'm having a bath."

Remus said in a low, growl-y voice, "You don't have to go downstairs, but you can't stay here."

"Why not?" asked Sirius, tongue-in-cheek.

I cast a nonverbal trip jinx. When Sirius fell backwards, I heard Remus whisper a spell that slammed the door shut.

"I know when I'm unwanted!" Sirius yelled. "I'll go where I'm welcome." After a pause, he said, "Do you think Cami's still at the office?"

Remus's hands were sliding down my back. I said, "Yes!"

A few seconds later, Sirius called, "Who were you saying 'yes' to?"

I laughed. "Both of you!"

The rumbles of Sirius's amusement grew fainter as he walked toward the door. "You should have been a Gryffindor, cousin!"

When we were finally alone, I broke the charm and smiled down at my now visible love. "You like me bold, don't you?"

Remus smiled wolfishly. "Yes!"

 

 

I wasn't feeling quite so bold later that evening when I knocked on the door of Scrimgeour's house. His butler, footman or something ushered me into the house.

"This way, miss."

The home reflected his office, neutral, understated elegance. When I entered the library, Scrimgeour rose from behind the desk. "Do you have it?"

I glanced over my shoulder.

"Stevens is the only servant on duty tonight, and he is much too discreet to linger." My boss smiled. "Lola."

I tossed my blonde hair back. "I figured if anyone has you under surveillance, it's better for Lola to visit than one of your junior staff." I withdrew a small canister of film from my trouser pocket and placed it on the desk.

Scrimgeour made no move to take it. "What did you think of the letter?"

"Honestly?"

He gave a lion-like huff of amusement. "If I wanted someone to say only what they thought I wanted to hear, I would have asked a personal assistant or department head."

"All right. You should consider hiring a bodyguard and...."

"And?"

"And I think you'd make a much better Minister than Fudge."

Scrimgeour waved me to a seat. "I was hoping you'd say that."

 


	11. Facing the Shadow

 

Scrimgeour had been hoping I would say he would make a better Minister than Fudge. That was interesting. I waited for him to tell me why.

He gave a wry smile. "I find myself in an unusual situation."

His tone made me curious. "Do you need another job done...unofficially?"

"Yes." Scrimgeour rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and made a steeple of his fingers. "In my position, I am occasionally obliged to make appearances at charity dinners and public functions. In light of your findings, such events are where I am most in need of a bodyguard." His lion's mane of hair shook. "Unfortunately, it would damage the public's confidence for the Head of Aurors to officially hire such a person."

Damage his chances of becoming Minister for Magic, more like.

He tapped his lips with his fingers. "And yet...if the guard was disguised as an escort _..."_

Didn't Muggles use the term Escort Service as a euphemism for something less innocent? I frowned. "Isn't there someone who'd mind you going round with an  _escort?"_

Scrimgeour arched an eyebrow. "Have I given you reason to think there is?"

"I read  _Jane Eyre_  in Muggle Studies. There could be a Mrs. Scrimgeour in the attics prepared to torch the place for all I know."

He roared with laughter. "No, there's only boxes and furniture in the attic."

"Well, that's a relief."

"What about your partner?" my boss asked. "Will he mind you 'going round' with me?"

"Not if I'm Lola and it's strictly business."

Scrimgeour's lips twitched. "No constituent wants to see a man my age exhibiting public displays of affection."

I caught myself before I grimaced. No, they didn't! "I have to discuss it with him, but Remus should have no objections—what?" I broke off when he acted surprised to hear Remus's name.

"I was referring to Auror Connelly."

"Oh." I shrugged. "If this is off Auror records, I won't tell him. You can send whoever you did last time back to my uncle to make arrangements."

"Very well."

After a moment of silence, I asked, "Is there anything else?"

Scrimgeour rose. "No. I'll see you out."

At the front door, he said, "Remus is an unusual name. There was a werewolf who resigned his position at Hogwarts with that name."

I stiffened. "There was a professor who happened to be a werewolf, you mean. Yes. Remus Lupin is my partner." My expression dared him to make something of it.

He opened the door with an enigmatic smile. "I see. Goodnight."

 

 

After Apparating to Grimmauld Place, I transformed my features, slipped in through the attic, and tiptoed down the stairs. Remus opened his door with a warm smile. "Hello, love."

I threw my arms around his neck. When he backed into the room, I kicked the door shut while kissing him hello.

"How was the meeting?" he asked after we had moved to one of the cosy chairs.

I sat on his lap and played with the ends of his hair. "He offered another side job."

Remus lifted my chin with a finger. "What kind of job?"

"Bodyguard at an occasional public event."

Amber eyes blinked. "You'd be dating your boss."

Horrified laughter burst out of my mouth. "No, I wouldn't! I'd be Lola, only there to look pretty and watch his back while he chats up the powerful people. There would be no impropriety." I snickered. "He said no one wants to see a bloke his age  _exhibiting public displays of affection._ "

"What about private ones?"

I grimaced. "Eeuwww...no, he isn't like Fudge."

"Did you tell him you'd take the job?"

I shook my head. "I told him I had to talk it over with you."

Remus's tone was level. "But you want to."

I pushed to my feet and stood over him, hands on hips. "I don't want to do it to curry favour with the boss or even because I think he'd make a better leader for the Ministry than Fudge."

He stood and faced me squarely. "Then why? The money?"

I ran a hand through my hair, not caring if pink spikes stood up on end. " _Yes!_ "

His jaw tightened. "Your gran would say the love of money is the root of all evil."

"I don't love money. I love you, and I want to be able to afford Wolfsbane Potion one day!"

The tension left his features, but it wasn't in a good way. His shoulders slumped a bit. It was if the weight of my hopes was hard to bear. "That day will not be anytime soon, I fear."

I caressed his cheek. "Are the meetings that bad?"

Remus's gaze turned inward. "The men...women too...are filled with anger, and the Ministry gives them a focus for their rage. I'm afraid that for many, the Dark path is beginning to seem the lesser of two evils."

My arms slid around his waist, hugging him fiercely. "You'll win them over. You just need more time."

"Those who recruit for You-Know-Who are clever. They don't speak of their master openly. They use another's name to rally werewolves."

"Who?"

"Fenrir Greyback."

I shuddered. "He's a monster. A wanted criminal. He kills for fun!"

Remus's arms tightened. "I know."

"How can anyone follow him?"

"He defies the Ministry. Has a vision of werewolves outnumbering wizards and taking what is rightfully theirs."

" _Rightfully theirs!"_

Remus kissed my forehead. "Shhh... I am simply relating the facts. Greyback is the most savage of our kind, but that strength draws those who feel powerless."

"They're stupid!"

I felt his chest heave with the depth of his sigh. "No, love, they're merely desperate."

The pained resignation in his tone made me want to do anything to ease it. "You can tell them people are working to oust Fudge. That has to give them hope things will get better!"

"Would Scrimgeour's leadership bring change?" Remus shook his head. "In all honesty, I'm not sure."

"Anybody would be better than Fudge." I made a comical face. "I'd rather have Kreacher for Minister!"

_"Kreacher for Minister?"_

Sirius had entered the room. He laughed. "Has drink affected my hearing, cousin, or did you say you'd prefer that sneaky elf bastard for Minister?"

"I was exaggerating for effect."

"Good. Then I won't have to hex you." Sirius took a few steps into the room and jerked to a halt, swaying slightly. "You people aren't  _busy_ are you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Does it look like we're busy?"

Sirius began sniggering. "I refuse to answer on the grounds that I may get jinxed _."_

Remus winked at me. "I had plans to coax Nymphadora into helping me with a crossword puzzle. Why?"

A bark of laughter sounded. "Help you with a crossword puzzle? How? Tell you a five letter word for uninhibited sexuality?"

I narrowed my eyes. "The one I'm thinking of has  _six_  letters."

Remus huffed with amusement.

He wasn't the only one who caught my “Sirius” meaning. I couldn't help but smile as I watched my cousin waggle his fingers, mentally counting, before he asked, "Don't you mean  _ten?"_

I shot a glance at Remus and was held by a gaze that made my insides fluttery. Before, I had never been uninhibited, but in his arms...

"Hello? Remember me? The bloke who asked if you two were busy?" Sirius waved sarcastically before crossing his arms. "You said  _no."_

Remus chuckled. "Are you in the mood for cards?"

"Since Cami is on an enquiry tonight, it's the only thing I'd better be in the mood for."

Sirius looked about five, pouting. I patted his cheek. "Cheer up. You're unlucky in love, so you're bound to be lucky at cards."

Remus said, "And before you ask, no, we won't play for money."

Two hours later, sitting around a small table in what we called Buckbeak's Suite, Sirius gazed down at the mound of pistachios in front of him and scowled. "Should be peanuts. Sounds better to say I'm playing for peanuts!"

I glanced from the beer in his hand to the empty bottles on the floor. It was a good thing Cami wasn't here to see Sirius drinking like this.

Remus took a nut from his smaller pile and cracked open the shell. "I like pistachios."

Sirius shot me a sour look from across the table. "I see.  _Remus_ likes pistachios, so his ickle sweetheart  _had_ to choose those at the market!"

Since I was out of pistachios, I nicked one from Sirius's pile and ate it over his protests. "He likes sunflower seeds better than peanuts, too, so count your blessings!" A squawk from the corner encouraged me to nick another pistachio and toss it Buckbeak's way. He wasn't hungry, but the Hippogriff seemed to enjoy catching the nuts mid-air.

Sirius slapped his hand down on the table. "Or ferrets! We should have played for ferrets and given the pot to Bucky at the end."

"What a charming sight a mound of dead ferrets would be," Remus murmured.

I giggled. "Lovely smells, too."

Sirius waved his beer at us. "Go ahead, bill and coo, tickle each other's feathers, lovebirds. Soon I shall have all the pistachios." He scowled when I stole another nut. "Nick one of his, why don't you?"

I glanced sideways. "I don't want to take from him. I only want to give."

Remus held out a pistachio. "It will give me pleasure if you take what I have to give."

"Give me a break from the love fest and bid, Moony!" Sirius groused.

Remus smiled when I took the pistachio and then brought his hand to my lips. "I'm all in, Padfoot."

Sirius looked down at his cards. "All in?" He called to Buckbeak, "What do you say, mate? Is he bluffing? Trying to get me to fold so he can double-up on a pair?"

The Hippogriff squawked.

Sirius grinned. "I'll take that as 'yes' and call your bluff, old man."

Remus put his cards on the table. "Four of a kind."

I clapped my hands together. It was a great hand! "Emmeline Vance would say the Queens represent women in your life." I pointed to the Queen of Clubs. "Dark haired, confident, fiery…obviously me."

" _Obviously,"_ Remus and Sirius said together.

I tapped the Queen of Hearts with a fingertip. "Water sign, indicating an affectionate, caring woman with kind advice—Cami."

Sirius sighed deeply.

Next was the Queen of Diamonds. "Fair haired woman, earth, who enjoys gossip." I laughed. "Julia!"

The last Queen was Spades. "Here's a mystery. Air predominates…usually a divorced woman or a widow."

Remus said thoughtfully, "There is one woman who attends the meetings. Her husband filed for divorce after her attack six years ago. Her children are grown and seldom visit. She speaks out against the Ministry and openly supports Greyback."

"How old is she?" I tried to ask casually.

Sirius burst out laughing. "Afraid a woman with animal magnetism wants to get her claws into your man, cousin?"

I snatched up a pistachio and bounced it off his forehead. "Shut up!"

Remus clasped my hand when I moved to throw another nut. "Her name is Mara Brown and she's in her fifties, I expect."

"Is she pretty?"

My love shook his head with an understanding smile. "No. Even if she was, her attitude would make her ugly. She proudly admits to being well named. Mara means bitter."

I smiled a little. "So I don't need to drop by a meeting and warn her off?"

When he shook his head, I giggled. "I could wait outside one evening and make sure…mark my territory with a public display of affection."

Remus leaned over and kissed me. "You may display your affection anytime and anywhere you like."

Sirius groaned in mock-disgust. "I win with a Straight Flush. Seven, eight, nine, ten and Jack of Clubs. I'll take those pistachios and invite you to take your displays of affection somewhere else, mate!"

I picked up the Jack. "This is you, cousin. Dark haired, fiery, popular, good-hearted and playful."

Sirius preened. "Tell Cami that, will you?"

I rose and bowed to take my leave of Buckbeak. "Believe me, she already knows."

 

 

A few days later, I stood in the kitchen at Grimmauld, gazing at a scarlet banner proclaiming  _CONGRATULATIONS RON AND HERMIONE—NEW PREFECTS._ It was the end of holiday. We would be escorting Harry and the children to the station tomorrow morning.

Molly had decided to throw a little party and end the summer with a celebration. Sirius and Remus were setting out drinks on a counter while Kingsley and I had double checked to ensure all the stasis covers were properly keeping the food on the table warm and fresh. As soon as Molly returned from her shopping trip to Diagon Alley, she would usher the children downstairs for their surprise.

"You look sad," Kingsley told me.

I sighed. "I'm glad for them to get out of this house and be with their friends, but at the same time…."

"You will miss them." He smiled. "Especially Ginny, I think."

I tossed back my waist-length red hair. "What makes you say that?" I returned his smile. "Hermione's a wonderful girl, but there's just something about Ginny."

"You are simpatico."

Yeah, we thought the same on lots of things, and shared a similar sense of humour.

The door to the kitchen opened, spilling noise and people into the room. Ginny laughed when she saw my hair. "We're like sisters!"

"If I could hand-pick a little sister, it would be you."

Fred and George overheard.

"Go ahead and adopt her, we don't mind," said George.

"We tried to give her away when she was little, but no one would have her," Fred said mournfully.

When Ginny pinched his ear, Fred yelped, "Sorry! I take it back." He stepped out of pinching range and grinned. "We got the girls visiting our Muggle neighbours to take you once, but they brought you back after a half hour."

" _Tried_ to bring her back," said George. "Remember, we wouldn't do it for nothing. They had to cough up sweets, batteries for Dad, and one of those funny paper money things—a pound—first."

I looked admiringly at Ginny. "What did you do to make the girls want to take you home so badly?"

Her eyes were focused on a boy moving toward us. Harry. She said, "I'll write and tell you."

"You want to be pen friends?" I was cheered at the thought of keeping in touch.

"If you want to."

I pretended to pinch her ear like she had Fred. "How could you think I wouldn't?"

She giggled. "Sorry!"

Molly, all flushed and excited, called for toasts.

I watched Harry out of the corner of my eye, remembering when Julia got a prefect badge and I didn't. I had put on a good front, but I'd felt a stomach twisting combination of jealousy and shame for wanting to be prefect instead of her. When Tom and Julia had walked off to the prefect carriage instead of to a compartment with me, I'd felt lonely and sorry for myself. I wondered if Harry would too.

He didn't hesitate to lift his glass and smiled at every toast, so maybe he was more mature than I had been. Or else Harry was doing a bang up job of concealing his feelings.

After the toasts, I trailed the others toward the food. The jacket potatoes looked good. Maybe I'd take one and top it with butter and sour cream, some cheese and bits of bacon, skipping the green onions. A sidelong glance revealed Harry was near. Impulsively, I shared that I didn't make prefect because I lacked certain necessary qualities, in the words of my Head of House.

Ginny was simpatico in food tastes too. She picked out a baked potato. "Like what?" she asked.

I winked at her. "Like the ability to behave myself." A quick peek showed Harry was smiling a real smile that reached his eyes. I mentally patted myself on the back.

The bit of a celebration, as Molly called it, was fun. I chatted with everyone and got to see why Hermione admired the colour blue so much. Ron told me all about his new broom, eyes bright as he described the Spanish oak used to make the handle and the latest anti jinx varnish.

Across the room, a group of men were laughing over something Arthur said. I felt a girlish thrill when Remus caught my eye and gave me a slow smile before turning back to the conversation.

Thank Merlin Dumbledore had never offered him the DADA position when I was at Hogwarts! Fantasies that he would have found me irresistible were just that, fantasy. Remus would have kindly ignored my schoolgirl passion, and I would have rivalled Ginny in the angst department.

When I said goodnight to everyone, Remus said, “ _Au Revoir,”_ in tone that made me feel hot and shivery at the same time.

The second the front door closed, I sprinted to the side of the house. I levitated so fast I got a head rush and almost tripped and fell down the stairs in my hurry to reach Remus's room.

He was already there, sitting at his desk, quill poised above parchment.

I warded the door shut. "What are you doing?"

"Preparing to write you a limerick."

I kicked off my shoes. "Write it tomorrow."

He grinned at me so boyishly; I knew he'd had a few more drinks than his usual glass of wine with dinner. "What if tomorrow never comes?"

I glided toward him, slowly removing a few items of clothing on the way. When he set down the quill, I straddled his lap. After a wet, deep kiss, I whispered, "Then you'd better love me like it's the last night of your life."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fred and George giving Ginny away and then making the girls pay to take her back was inspired by a great O. Henry story The Ransom of Red Chief. In the story, two men get the idea to kidnap a boy “during a moment of temporary mental apparition” (which makes me wonder if Jo ever read O. Henry). If anyone wonders what kind of Limerick Remus would come up with, all they have to do is go read chapter two of From the Battered Journal of Remus J. Lupin!


	12. Shadow of the Wolf

 

 

The face in the mirror was kind and grandmotherly. I'd based it on my Gran. Still, I wasn't happy. "I don't want to be an old lady," I told Remus, making a sour face. The old woman now looked like the type who wouldn't return any balls that rolled into her garden.

The brown jumper he was pulling over his head muffled his words. "What are the alternatives?"

As always, I admired the way he made brown sexy instead of boring. "Well," I said hastily, to cover my staring. "I could be a businessman on his way to catch a train."

"Would a businessman walk?"

"If he had no luggage and a stone or two he needed to lose."

Remus sat on the edge of the bed to tie the laces of his shoes. "Someone else."

I shifted my face and form into that of a plump strawberry-blonde. Pumping my arms, I walked in place. "Fine. I could be a stay-at-home-mum who needs to walk off the baby weight."

"Is the resemblance to Molly intentional?"

My gaze flew to the mirror. Eeek! I did look like Molly's younger sister! That would never do. I morphed again. "Okay, I'm Lola, power-walking so my new gentleman friend doesn't trade me in for a younger model."

"Gentleman friend?"

Bugger! The last thing I wanted to do was give Remus more reason to disapprove of my new side job. I shifted my features into those of an Indian girl. "I could be a kid on the way to the corner market for chocolate."

"At King's Cross station?"

I pouted like his former charge, six-year-old Aashi. "There might be a market near there."

Remus stood. "Better to stick to plan."

I shifted. "I could be Aashi's grandmother!"

He smiled. "She would wear a sari, not a dress."

"Sorry." I morphed again. "How about Molly's Mum?"

"Might bring up painful memories. She's deceased."

"Oh." I thought for a moment and shifted, giggling. "Guess whose mother I could be?"

"Long face, hooked nose, thin lips...Mrs. Snape, I presume?"

I said haughtily, "My son is the youngest Potions Master in Britain, I'll have you know!"

Remus gave a huff of amusement. "That and a Galleon will get you a Butterbeer at the Broomsticks, madam."

"A Galleon will still buy a Butterbeer? Fancy that." I laughed while returning my features to normal.

"I fancy you, but we have a schedule to keep this morning, love."

I blew him a kiss. "Thank you for both reminders. Later, I'll remind you to show exactly how much you fancy me."

"I look forward to the demonstration."

My smile faded when I turned back to the mirror. "Why do they always want me to be an old woman? No challenge in it." After releasing an aggrieved sigh that caused Remus to chuckle, I said, "I'll be the Gran I had the most fun as."

He watched me morph with twitching lips. "What if someone recognises you from the  _Quibbler_  article last May?"

I patted my tight grey curls. "I'll be happy to admit that I am indeed the granny who trounced a troll and sign autographs if requested."

"No autographs. The train leaves at eleven sharp."

"Can I at least tell any adoring public that I had help from my fit young gentleman friend in taking down the river troll?"

Remus barked with laughter. "If you like."

I checked the time. "Got to run meet Ginny upstairs to say goodbye, since you're escorting her…which reminds me…why aren't I the one escorting her to the station?"

"You two would talk faster than you'd walk, and she'd miss the train."

"Eh, you're right." I took his face in my hands and brushed his lips with mine. "Bye, sonny."

He kissed me soundly. "Goodbye, Granny."

I was still giggling like a senile old woman when I entered the attic.

"I like your disguise," said Ginny.

In character, I shuffled my way toward the trunk she was sitting on. "Ta, thanks, dearie."

She giggled. "You need something to pull your ensemble together." Ginny hopped up and opened the trunk, rummaging inside. "I saw a hat when we played dress up. It was purple, perfect for a gran. Here it is. Matches your shoes."

I burst out laughing. "It's shaped like a porkpie!"

"My grandmother had a hat like that."

"Really? I'm sorry."

Ginny grinned. "Don't be. It was pea green and I thought it was horrid."

I put the hat on my head at a rakish angle. "Colour makes all the difference, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Yours is merely ugly."

I clucked my tongue. "You're only saying that because you're jealous." I put up a hand when she opened her mouth. "Don't try to deny it, and don't ask to borrow Porkie, either, when you see how Harry admires him."

" _Porkie_?" Ginny collapsed into giggles.

I took off the hat and cradled it. "Don't listen to her, Porkie, luv. You'll be the rage at the senior centre." I placed it on Ginny's head and considered the effect before snatching it off again. "No. Porkie's a one-woman hat."

Ginny's smile faded. "Are there one-woman men?"

"Sure there are," I said firmly. "Remus is." I waggled my eyebrows. "Although he may have kissed a few girl frogs before he found his princess."

"I thought girls were the ones who kiss boy frogs to find a prince?"

"We do." I concentrated and pointed to my lips. "See? I've got the warts to prove it."

"Gross! Are those  _real?"_

I morphed my lips back to normal. "Nah. Warts are from viruses. I can only morph bumps."

Ginny shook her head. "You can't get warts from frogs, anyway. Fred and George were asking Hermione, trying to find new gag, and she said there are frogs and toads with glands that secrete poisons as protection. It causes skin irritations, but that has nothing to do with warts."

"Bet Fred and George were disappointed."

"Yeah."

I gave her a one-armed hug. "Don't you be disappointed if you see…boys…kissing girl frogs. Think of it as practise for when they find their princess."

Ginny's chin came up. "I may choose to get in some practise too!"

"That's the spirit!"

A silvery form scurried through the wall. It was Molly's Patronus. Ginny rolled her eyes. "All right, all right, I'm coming downstairs. No need to thump your tail at me!"

When the Patronus left, I nudged Ginny with my shoulder. "Get a move on. I'll write."

"I'll write too. Bye."

I remembered something. "Wait!"

Ginny stopped at the door. "Yes?"

I rummaged in my floral 'granny' pocketbook and brought out a bright yellow quill. "Here."

"What is it?"

"A Highlighter Quill. It will automatically highlight in yellow any passages a teacher mentions in your text. Very handy in classes where attention is prone to wander, like History of Magic."

"Thank you!"

The September day was cloudy, but my outlook was sunny as I walked with Molly and Harry to King's Cross. Snuffles was in high spirits, too, acting like a puppy in his joy to be outside. He reminded me of something I'd heard when I was small, watching films on telly with my Muggle cousins.

" _And the big brown bear came LOLLOPING over the mountain."_

"Beg pardon?" asked Molly.

Had I said that out loud? "Nothing."

Harry said, "It should be a black bear." He watched Snuffles dart off to chase pigeons and smiled. "He is lolloping."

After we reached King's Cross and I'd hugged Ginny and Hermione goodbye, I stood with Remus, Mad-Eye, Molly and Arthur, waving as the train pulled out of the station. As the Express travelled out of sight, Mad-Eye grumbled, "Did those kids listen to a single word I said?"

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "A question every parent asks themselves. You can only hope the answer is 'yes'."

I joked, "Or you can send a Howler to scream  _constant vigilance_  as a reminder."

"Excellent idea!"

Molly blanched. "Oh no, no, that would not do."

Mismatched eyes narrowed. "Got a monopoly on Howlers, have you?"

Remus steered me away from the verbal battle that seemed to be brewing. "Even when you're a granny you lack the ability to behave yourself."

"Gives you hope for the future, eh, sonny?"

He winked. "Indeed."

 

 

After the children left, Remus and I spent most evenings with Cami and Sirius. We enjoyed not having to sneak around Grimmauld to be together. I could tell Sirius missed Harry, though, and found his confinement to the house an ordeal. He complained that the days seemed to drag on forever with no one but Buckbeak and occasionally Remus for company.

I felt the opposite. The days were flying by, and I still hadn't found a way to be with Remus without Wolfsbane Potion.

Two days before the full moon, Jerry and I took a break between cases and dropped by our favourite Notting Hill coffee shop. While he went to the counter to chat up his girlfriend Meg, I sat on a sofa and waited for Jenny Dunne to take my order.

I told her, "Caffè latte, no foam."

Jenny jotted it down on a pad. "You're a caffè mocha person. Why the change?"

"Chocolate won't help. Remus isn't on Wolfsbane this month. I don't know what to do."

She placed a hand on my shoulder. "You make a circle of protection, use shackles and a muzzle so he can't harm himself or anyone else and leave to try and get what small sleep you can."

"I won't leave him!"

Jenny's gaze was sad. "I stayed with David that first time. He growled and snarled and tried to drag himself past the magic barrier for hours, glaring at me with such hate in his eyes." She pulled away. "I never made that mistake again."

"There has to be a way."

She shook her head. "A Dark way, maybe, but nothing Light that I've ever found."

Jenny moved off to put in my order, leaving me with the memory of what Snape said during our night duty.

_How did Lupin's cohorts find a way to be with him? You do not really believe the fairytale that werewolves are no danger to other animals, do you?_

No, I didn't. I remembered Remus chuckling over Hagrid once asking if he  _ate anythin' las' night_  the morning after he'd become a werewolf at Hogwarts. If a man who tended to think monsters misunderstood worried about a Hippogriff in a werewolf's vicinity, what did that say about the creature's natural ferocity?

Dumbledore would never wield Dark magic, so he had found a Light way for Remus's friends to be safe. I could find one too.

The next day, I considered sending an owl to Hogwarts, but rejected the idea. Dumbledore would likely echo Snape and tell me the spell was beyond my abilities. Worse, he might tell Remus that I had asked.

I wanted to tell Remus after I found a way, not before. I knew he would forbid it, fearing I would endanger myself. Besides, there was no guarantee I would discover any useful spell, so no need to stir up conflict unnecessarily.

That night, while I got ready to escort Scrimgeour to the Friends of St. Mungo's charity dinner, Remus said, "If you don't want to do the job, don't. No amount of money is worth sacrificing your happiness."

I quit rummaging through my jewellery box. "It isn't that. I've been thinking about tomorrow night and…." I shrugged and picked up the earrings that went with my little black dress. "I'll stop dwelling on it and things will be fine."

He kissed my cheek. "Things  _will_ be fine. You'll see. This night…and tomorrow night…will pass."

I smiled determinedly. "And how will you pass the time when I'm keeping my eyes open and my mouth shut like a good bodyguard?"

"Keeping my drinks limited and my mouth shut like a good poker player."

"Who's playing with you three tonight?"

"Mundungus."

I gave Remus a quick peck on the lips because I was morphed and not about let Lola snog him, mental as that was. "Better count the cards, then."

"We'll make sure he rolls up his sleeves."

 

 

Mr. Stevens answered the door at Scrimgeour's house. "Good evening, Miss Lola."

"Evening, Stevens. Sharp tie you've got there."

"Thank you. This way."

Before we entered the library, the butler/bodyguard paused and withdrew a small box from his pocket.

I put a hand over my heart. "This is so sudden."

A gleam of amusement lit pale blue eyes. "The  _fede_  ring is enchanted to detect poison. If you wave your hand over a plate of food or a glass of wine and it grows warm around your finger…."

"Cool." I slipped the intricately carved silver band on the ring finger of my right hand. "What's  _fede_  mean?"

"Faith, symbolised by the hands clasped together. I  _trust_ you will engage it wisely."

I had to ask, "What's your first name?"

After a moment, he said stiffly, "Quentin."

I grinned. "Q! That's perfect! "

A corner of his mouth turned up. "Mr. Scrimgeour is waiting."

My boss rose from behind the desk as I entered. "Precisely on time." He gestured to the fireplace. "Shall we?"

The ballroom of the hotel the dinner was held at was decorated in shades of white. "Who was the head of the decorating committee? Narcissa Malfoy?" I muttered.

"I believe it was."

" _Rufus! And the lovely Lola!"_

Fudge hailed us in a voice that carried like a bullhorn. Those in hearing distance looked our way, which was probably his intent.

I shook the hand of “call me Cornelius” and turned to his wife. Mrs. Fudge was small and round, startling like a brown wren when addressed. She whispered, as if by rote, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

When the other couple moved on, I said, "For someone so birdlike, Mrs. Fudge didn't make a peep."

"Perhaps her husband's admiration of your charms ruffled her feathers."

I restrained my snicker. "Good one, R—Rufus."

He murmured, "There…not so hard to say, was it?"

"Easy as eating peanut butter without a drink to wash it down."

His eyes gleamed with amusement. "Then by all means, let us procure you a drink."

On the way to the bar, Scrimgeour chatted with several people who came up to introduce their wives or be introduced to me. I kept to my role. I smiled warmly, said little, and watched my boss's back.

When the barman handed us our drinks, I got to try out my  _fede_ ring. I waved a hand over the glasses…nothing….

"Don't look so disappointed. The night is young. Plenty of time left for poison attempts."

I slanted him a ha-ha look even while cooing, "Oh Rufus, you say the sweetest things."

He laughed softly. "Our table is this way."

It was weird having a man other than Remus touch the small of my back. I had to force myself not to step away from the unwanted contact.

Our table was VIP all the way. The Minister for Magic and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, a crusty old member of the Wizengamot with his shockingly young date, and the Managing Director of Gringotts and his wife were already seated. I sat beside Mr. Moneybags and smiled brightly at the woman on his left.

She was somewhere in her fifties, attractive and confident, with smooth dark skin and a serene smile. When she held out her hand, I shook it. Her fingers tightened around mine for an instant and then let go.

Uneasy, I gratefully turned back to my partner for the evening. I listened a lot, spoke little, and was bored stiff by dessert. I could hear traces of laughter from tables at the back and felt envious of the good time they were having.

_You're not here to have a good time. You're here to work._

The little voice in the back of my mind was a welcome reminder. I was on the job, earning every Galleon.

"More wine?" a server asked. I shook my head. Scrimgeour nodded. Instinctively, I reached for his glass before he brought it to his lips. My ring felt warm. I pulled the drink away from him, spilling wine onto my skirt.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I just wanted a sip."

Scrimgeour shot to his feet, his eyes on the retreating back of our server. "I'll get you another drink, m'dear."

"I'll go with you."

"No. I have all the assistance I need."

I saw his hand slip into a robe pocked as he stalked away. Whether he planned to hex the man or simply use a magical mirror to alert Aurors standing ready, I didn't know.

"Your dress is soaked. Let us adjourn and repair the damage."

It was the banker's wife. I nodded agreeably and stood.

In the ladies' lavatory, an attendant used a dry-cleaning spell to fix my dress. I thanked her and gave an appreciative tip.

While we were strolling back, the woman I thought of as Mrs. Moneybags said, "When I touched your hand earlier, I felt very strongly that you are seeking something."

"I am."

She held out her hand. "May I?"

I placed my hand on hers, palm up.

She smiled and turned her hand over to clasp mine. "I do not read palms. I sense things through touch." Her eyes closed. "What you seek is found in room filled with books…a bookshop." Dark eyes focused on mine. "Is that helpful?"

I thought of Andrew's bookshop and the werewolf who worked there. What if there was a spell and David Dunne was like Remus, too protective to allow his partner to attempt it? I swallowed hard. "Yes.  _Thank you_."

We returned to the table and found Scrimgeour had returned. He offered me a glass of champagne and tapped his against it in a silent toast.

 

 

The next day, I was on edge, feeling as though I were racing the clock, trying to find a way to be with Remus before moonrise. Not even a private memo informing me that a certain opposition party lacked one member today while Azkaban gained another prisoner brought satisfaction. At lunchtime, when Jerry said he was in the mood for Chinese, I said, "Pick me up some beef chow mein. I've got to run an errand."

Andrew was ringing up a customer at the till counter when I walked into the bookshop. I was relieved not to have to make small talk. I strode over to where David was shelving books. "Hi. I need a book."

His smile of greeting froze. "What kind?"

There was no way to put it discretely. "One with a Binding Spell for werewolves."

I saw knowledge of such a text flicker across his face, even as he shook his head. "I can't help you."

My hands fisted. "Damn it, David, do you want me to beg?"

He threw a glance toward his boss and abruptly pivoted, heading for the spiral staircase leading to the upper floor. In the far right corner of the upper stacks, he turned on his heel to face me. "Why aren't you asking Remus for a Binding Spell?"

"I'm afraid he'd lie to me, just like you did."

David reached out and trailed his fingers along the binding of a book, as if the motion was soothing. "There is good reason why Binding Spells are rare. To bind someone, you have to bind them  _to_ something…in this case, the spell caster." His mouth twisted down. "After the horror Jenny went through, I could never ask her to do that for me."

"Remus isn't asking me. I'm doing it because I want to."

"You want to bind yourself to a monster."

" _He's not a monster!"_ I lowered my voice. "Remus said when he was with his Animagi friends his mind seemed less wolfish. Can't Binding Spells do that? Connect minds, spirits—whatever the hell it is—to keep him from becoming completely feral?"

"Are you talking about binding his free will?"

"NO!" I tried to explain, "I know basic binding spells tie up a person's ability to act in a certain way. I'm looking for one that's different. Not a Dark spell to control or punish, but to bind out of compassion and love."

David rubbed a hand over his face. I could see that I was adding to the stress he must be feeling over the impending full moon. He exhaled sharply. "Are you willing to do blood magic?"

In Auror training, one of the ongoing debates was the classification of the use of blood for magical purposes. Some believed there was a long and Dark tradition to blood magic. Blood symbolised life. Since the vilest of wizards took life to empower their evil spells, all blood magic was therefore inherently Dark. Others held that giving one's own blood invoked the concept of sacrificing for the greater good and that sealing a vow with a drop of one's blood was an ancient and honoured practice. Consequently, the intent of the caster was what made the magic Dark or Light.

I intended nothing Dark, so I had no ethical problem. "Yes, I'll do it."

David pulled out the book he'd singled out. "This text claims one of Odin's wolves was a werewolf who begged his master for a spell that would allow his wife to be with him without harm on full moons. Odin granted him his request and changed his name to Geri— _greed_."

Was I greedy, begging to be with Remus? I didn't care. "May I see the spell?"

He hesitated. "If it works and the outcome is…good...will you tell Jenny about it?"

"Of course."

David handed me the book. I chanted a Memory Spell beneath my breath in order to impress everything I read into mind. It was simple; a large white candle, voluntary sacrifice of blood, and the strength of will to cast the spell. What I didn't have, I would get.

 

 

Remus owled to tell me it was better we not see each other until the morning. Ironically, I agreed wholeheartedly. I didn't want to lie or go against his wishes. My black streak preferred to go around them.

I Apparated to Grimmauld Place and boldly knocked on the front door. After several minutes, Kreacher undid the locks. "What is you wanting?"

I pushed past him. "I'm going upstairs."

On the second floor landing, Kreacher appeared on a step above me. "Master is saying nobody is allowed in the attics."

I smiled thinly. "I'm not nobody. I'm family."

Kreacher looked thrilled to find a way to thwart his master. He let me pass by, sniggering.

I ran upstairs. Every moment wasted was another moment Remus might spend shackled and muzzled without someone to take his mind off his rage and pain.

Both Remus and Sirius were sure an old friend's company would be the comfort it had been in the past, but I worried that if the spell Dumbledore must have cast on the four at Hogwarts was broken upon James's death, then the werewolf would reject Snuffles.

The door was warded shut.

"Master is not wanting to be disturbed," Kreacher said behind me.

I whirled around. "Did he tell you specifically not to open the attic door?"

"No."

"Then open it!"

"Why is Kreacher to be opening the door for a half-blood freak?"

I almost whacked him on the head with my rucksack. I thought of asking nicely, but ended up saying, "Because if you don't, I'm going to make you sing soprano in the elf choir."

The wizened little bastard smirked. "I is not a singer."

I slammed my fist back against the door. "Open it or I will see your head gets cut off with a rusty butter knife!"

Kreacher gave a ragged sigh. "I has not heard that for such a long time." He flicked a finger at the door. It swung open.

I clutched my sack and walked inside, holding my wand out to illumine the darkness. In the far corner, behind shadowed boxes and furniture, was the magical circle that held a growling werewolf.

A heavy weight knocked me to the floor.

"Sirius, no!"

I felt a sharp tug on the hem of my denims. I began to slide along the dusty planks, dragged back toward the door like a naughty pup.

" _Peto somnus!_  Go to sleep!"

The great black dog collapsed onto the floorboards. I ran my hand down his fur to feel his chest rise and fall. Reassured, I levered myself up and approached Remus.

He wasn't a tame wolf anymore. He stood stiffed legged with hackles bristling and tail horizontal. Even muzzled, I could see his incisors, hear his snarls. If he wasn't shackled, he would be flinging himself at the magical barrier, trying to attack.

My fingers shook as I opened the rucksack. I fumbled to light the white pillar candle, unnerved by the threatening noises that echoed in the gloom.

I placed the candle a few metres away from the white chalked line of the containment circle and went back to the rucksack for my obsidian knife. With the wand held defensively, I used the knife to carve Remus's name into the side of the candle.

The scrape of iron against wood brought my eyes to the wolf straining to break his bonds. I could see why Jenny thought her husband had glared at her in hatred. There was a promise of death in that glowing red gaze.

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes like the book advised, trying to visualise releasing all fear and negativity with my exhale while drawing in tranquillity. The rasping of chains was not helping me to focus. I decided serenity was out and strength of will would have to be enough. After I used the knife to prick the tip of my finger, I wiped the blood on the candle.

" _EGO redimio vos scelero_ …I bind you with blood."

I deepened the cut until blood welled and began to drip.

" _EGO redimio vos in diligo…_ I bind you in love."

I crawled forward on hands and knees, trying to keep my back arched and my lips drawn back to show active submission, that I wasn't a threat. At the edge of the circle, I stopped.

" _EGO redimio!_  I bind you!"

Now was the test of faith. I stretched out my bloody hand.

Breath and time itself seemed suspended. Bit by bit, the wolf's muzzle lowered to my trembling fingers. Slowly, the tip of his tongue lapped the blood. The spell was complete.

I half-expected the attic windows to burst open and a dramatic gust of wind to extinguish the candle. Instead, it was as though a window opened into the werewolf's mind.

I fell through it headlong.

 

 

_We were running through the forest. Glimpses of the full moon could be seen through the canopy of trees. It was a glorious sight, but I felt no urge to howl. That was one of many myths about wolves._

_I felt like I could run forever, my heart and legs were so strong. There were many tantalising scents upon the air, cracklings in the underbrush that signalled small prey was near. I whimpered._

_My mate's tail was held in alertness, but he didn’t slow. Since he chose not to explore, neither would I. Where he led, I followed._

_We finally came upon a clearing. I yipped, asking if he wanted to play in the moonlight._

_My mate pulled back his ears and looked at me with narrowed eyes. He had not indicated for me to follow tonight. A lone wolf for many years, he wasn’t used to constant companionship as I was. He suspected me of trying to dominate him._

_I rolled onto my back and drew my paws into my body, whimpering._

_His stance relaxed. Although he didn’t approach, his tail drooped down as he trotted some distance away before resting on the grass, forelegs outstretched._

_I rolled to my feet and padded toward him. He growled. I dropped to the ground and began to scoot forward, little by little, until I was close enough to feel the brush of his fur and the warmth of his body._

_When I whined, I felt him press closer and nibble my coat, grooming me. His wagging tail brushed mine._

_We slept side by side._

 

 

I drifted awake, gradually aware of the bands of sunlight across my face and the hard wood beneath my body. We needed to cast a Comfort Charm before the next full moon. My neck felt stiff.

"Nymphadora!"

I raised my head from my arms. Funny, I'd slept just the way I had in that dream or whatever it was we'd shared. Remus looked so concerned. I reached out to smooth the lines of concern from his brow.

He stared at the cut on my finger. "I taste blood," he whispered hoarsely. "What have you done?"

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this chapter started out so fluffy…a wolf in sheep's clothing? For those who read Promise of a Spring Moon, you may have recognised the old woman Tonks morphed into to escort Harry was based on the one from chapter 8. I couldn't resist. It was fun letting Ginny be the one to suggest the hat, too, and have to be escorted by Remus because she and Tonks would talk more than walk. Snuffles lolloping in the OotP scene reminded me of a line from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang so I had to use it.
> 
> Despite general belief in the Potterverse that werewolves are only a danger to humans, I believe they are never harmless, even around other animals, without spells involved. Hagrid worried over Bucky in ch 22 of PoA! As for Scrimgeour having Q around with spiffy gadgets, I already put Blofeld in the story, might as well have Tonks Bond with someone else too! The Binding Spell isn't from a book or site. I made it up, along with the tale of Geri being a werewolf bound to Odin's service. The real Geri was only a wolf…as far as I know…:D


	13. Cast in Shadow

 

 

" _What have you done?"_

I tried to smile. "I found a way to be with you."

In the silence that fell, I could hear Snuffles whimper in his sleep. I almost echoed him. Remus was looking at me in a way that made my stomach twist.

"You used blood magic."

I curled my fingers to hide the cut. "It isn't what you think."

"You don't know what I'm thinking." Remus sat up. His face was set.

I rose to my knees. "Tell me."

The corners of his mouth turned down. "Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"

"I...I had just found the spell...and...and you owled...."

"Convenient, wasn't it?"

I rubbed my arms, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with attic drafts.

Remus said tiredly, "A lie of omission is still a lie, Nymphadora." He read the look on my face and shook his head. "You cannot deny you purposefully avoided telling me about the spell." His jaw tightened. "Why?"

"You were already dealing with so much emotionally, I didn't want...."

His strong voice overrode my weak one. "Half-truths are also lies."

The pressure of mounting disappointment—his in me and mine over the foolish notion he would thank me for what I'd done—welled up inside. It hurt my throat to whisper, "I did it because I love you."

"Love is trust. Why didn't you trust me enough to come to me?"

"I do trust you!"

The creases around Remus's eyes deepened. "Then why did you act without my knowledge or consent?"

" _I was afraid!"_ The truth burst out. "I was afraid you'd forbid me to do the spell, that you would try to protect me and make us both miserable!"

"Are we happy now?"

"We were! Last night was amazing."

Remus stared at me incredulously. "Last night I was a monster!"

"No, you weren't!" I searched his eyes. "Don't you remember?"

His brows drew together. "I remember the werewolf running through the forest with his mate." He closed his eyes. "It was a nightmare come to life. I had made you a monster like me."

"We weren't monsters! We were simply animals...wolves...and it was incredible!" I fumbled for the right words to explain. "I experienced the world in a way I never had before, using senses in a way I never dreamt existed. I got to know a side of you—"

" _That wasn't me."_

If his tone had not been so raw, I would have laughed. "It  _was_ you! The way you narrowed your eyes at me for following you without permission...the way you kissed me."

"The  _wolf_ licked your muzzle. Not the man."

"It gave me the warm fuzzies like a kiss, and you were the wolf!"

Remus didn't draw back, but he might as well have. The look in his eyes was distant. "Ever since I was a child, I have lived with the horror of becoming a creature of darkness every full moon, endured the pain of being rejected for something that had nothing to do with who I was."

"You aren't Dark!"

My cry brought his attention back to the present. "If your spell hadn't worked, if my mind had not transcended the wolfish state." He shook his head, expression grave.

"But it did." I tried to smooth the faint lines on his brow with my fingertips.

Remus jerked his head back. "The end justifies the means? A very Slytherin mindset, and one I find disturbing."

I stared at my outstretched fingers. "No. I'm not Slytherin. I wouldn't hurt you for anything."

"Yet you have."

My hand dropped to my lap. "I'm sorry," I said, trying not to cry. His demeanour was frightening me. "I'm so  _sorry_ I didn't talk to you first and show you the spell. I…I told you, I was afraid."

"You were right to be afraid," Remus told me bluntly. "I would have forbidden it. I will never willingly endanger your life." His expression was stern. "So tell me, Nymphadora, how am I supposed to deal  _emotionally_ with your reckless disregard of my wishes and your safety?"

"Forgive me?" I swayed toward him. When he leaned nearer, I pressed tiny kisses to his jaw. "Please forgive me."

He pulled back before I reached his lips. "I'm not a wolf to be appeased with submission. I do forgive you, but I need time to think…and you need to consider the consequences of your actions."

My body felt heavy, as though I would sink through the floor. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"No."

A rush of anger followed the wave of relief. I jumped to my feet and stuffed my knife and candle back into the rucksack. "So you need time. OK." I strode toward the door and then spun on my heel. "While you're  _thinking,_ think about this—like it or not, the werewolf isn't separate from you. The wolf is you, and you should  _consider_ accepting it!"

He didn't answer, just sat there looking worn and sad, yet resolute as some stoic Roman ancestor.

I almost broke down. If I was a wolf, I would have been on my belly, crawling. Snuffles made a snoring noise. I resisted the urge to kick him awake and chanted the counter spell on my way out.

I met Kreacher on the first floor landing.

His watery blue eyes gleamed with a manic light. "Not since Mistress bound the Master has I felt such magic!"

I held tightly to the banister, but nothing helped me keep inner equilibrium. I was reeling. "What are you talking about?"

His expression turned sly. "Master Orion is wanting to leave the Mistress until she is asking Kreacher where to find a spell to keep him with her always."

My knees felt weak. "I didn't do Dark magic!"

The elf frowned. After a moment, he smiled. "If you is needing such a binding, Kreacher is knowing where Mistress hid her spellbook."

" _Kreacher! You malevolent little bastard! I'll hex you into next week for opening the attic door!"_ Sirius bounded downstairs, fire in his eyes.

I stepped between my cousin and the object of his wrath. "I'm the one responsible for opening that door." It was true. I had talked Kreacher into it. I lifted my chin. "You want to hex me?"

I wasn't the only one spoiling for a fight. "Hell, yes! Did you think you were funny, putting the dog to sleep?"

Kreacher sniggered.

Sirius growled, "Go crawl under your rock, worm!"

"Yes, Master." The elf muttered, "I is going, and I is hoping the half-blood is hexing the blood traitor into next week."

When he left, Sirius pushed long strands out of his face in order to glare at me better. "Kreacher didn't pray we'd hex each other into oblivion." He smiled bitterly. "I think he likes you, cousin, and who can blame him? You act like my mother! _"_

I walked up a step to jab my finger into his chest. "I'm not like your mother. I didn't bind Remus's free will!"

"You're just like her!" Sirius yelled.

I backed onto the landing.

He stalked down. "You didn't think about me at all. You only thought of yourself!"

I stared. I thought we were talking about his mother and father. What the hell was he talking about?

Sirius's face twisted. "I thought you understood! You acted like you knew how hard it's been for me, chained to this place, unable to  _do_ anything useful except bloody housecleaning!"

"I do understand."

"Then why did you take away the one chance I've had to help someone?"

If Sirius had hexed me breathless, he couldn't have done a better job. I found it hard to draw in the air to say, "I didn't…."

" _You did!"_

"I didn't think the spell Dumbledore cast over the four of you still held!" I cried. "I was afraid Remus would attack you the way a wolf would attack a stray dog!"

"Dumbledore never cast a spell." Sirius shook his head. "No. We became Animagi because werewolves are only a threat to humans."

"Says who?"

" _The Monster Book of Monsters."_

"And you believe that?" I was the one shaking my head now. "What is the prey of choice for wolves? Large ungulates—hoofed mammals."

"Deer. I know. We joked about it, that Prongs was lucky Moony wasn't a real wolf."

"I don't think luck had anything to do with it."

Sirius's jaw thrust out aggressively. "Maybe not, but you could have had the decency to wait and see." He strode forward. "But you didn't think, did you? You found a way to have what you wanted and took it, a credit to the  _Ancient and Noble House of Black!"_

"Shut up!"

"What's the matter? Truth hurts?"

"It wasn't like that!"

"Sure it was. Even Kreacher thinks so. You're his new crush."

I turned my back on Sirius and descended the stairs as quickly as I could. As I scrambled to undo the complicated assortment of locks on the front door, he ripped opened the curtains that hid Walburga's painting.

" _Blood traitor! Half-breed! Shame upon the house of my fathers!"_

"Here's your role model, cousin!"

" _Begone you filth! You…."_

The litanies of abuse continued while I jerked open the front door. I slammed it behind me and stood on the cracked stone of the front step, trembling.

After a few shuddery breaths, I started to walk. It took several blocks for me to compose myself enough to Apparate.

 

 

 

I kept glancing in the mirror while I dressed for work. Even though Remus said he wasn't breaking up with me, I worried my hair would turn to crap along with the rest of my life.

It remained pink.

I was not in a cheery mood, so I morphed my hair long and black. Defiantly, I dressed in black trousers and a gauzy black tunic embroidered in silver. After I applied black eyeliner and dark red lipstick, I told my reflection, "Today is take your black streak to work day!"

Julia did a double take when I stopped by her cubicle to say good morning. "Are you and Connelly investigating vampires?"

I flopped down in a chair and promptly spilled everything…or at least a condensed version of what had happened. "Remus is disappointed in me and Sirius is cheesed off and I'm…."

"Flaunting your black streak to show…what exactly?"

"Damned if I know." I had expected sympathy from my best mate, maybe even  _how dare they not appreciate what you did!_  Instead, she was gazing at me with a you're in a mess of your own making look on her face.

"Hey Julia, have you seen _…Tonks?"_

I pushed to my feet. "Yeah, I'm here." I threw Julia a sarcastic, "Thanks for all the support," and strode past my open-mouthed partner, pausing only to tap him under his chin. "You'll catch flies."

There was a photo of Remus on my desk that I wasn't up to facing, so I headed to Jerry's office.

"Uh…are you all right?" he asked, taking a seat behind the desk.

"Everything's ace."

My partner looked doubtful, but he didn't argue. He opened a file.

Two hours later, he was closing his mouth after starting to say something. If Jerry had thought of asking why I was in such a foul mood, he was wise to reconsider. He wouldn't have understood anyway.

Jerry was a Wizard Scout. He did his duty as an Auror and seemed not to mind investigating reports of Dark magic filed on the flimsiest of pretexts. He would chat with whatever paranoid or lonely soul had wasted our time without ever becoming impatient or brusque. It took all my self-control to be civil and refrain from handing out citations for wasting our time.

When we returned to the Auror Office to file reports after a non-productive morning, Gil Stern waylaid us before we opened the double doors. He was flushed and out of breath. "Hey! Tonks the Terrible! Want to help out on an interrogation?"

I crossed my arms. "Where's your other half?"

"Over at Law Enforcement with the suspect. They arrested a bloke on domestic battery and brought us in due to the Healer's determination that she may have been tortured with curses as well."

"Didn't you test his wand?"

"He said he lost it, and DMLE couldn't come up with it during a search of the premises."

"So why do you need Tonks?" Jerry asked.

Stern gave a wheedling smile. "Ron and I have tried to crack this nut for an hour. He's cool as ice and showing no signs of thawing. We thought if we threw our fireball here at him, she could make spring come early."

I crossed my arms. "You are an utter gobshite and sound like a bad detective novel."

Paunch shaking with laughter, Stern asked, "But you'll do it?"

My answer was to start walking down the central corridor toward the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Jerry called, "Tonks, we have two more interviews scheduled."

I threw over my shoulder, "If you can't wait for me, stop by Training and ask for a third year to assist. There are plenty who would be thrilled to take notes for you."

He jogged to catch up. "I'll wait."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stern nudge my partner with his elbow. "Like to watch, eh?"

"Only Tonks." When Stern guffawed, poor Jerry turned beet red. " _No!_ I meant . . . ."

I cut off his stammered explanations with a curt, "Don't worry about it. Stern is a dirty old man who's going to get his mouth Scourgified  _soon_."

Huffing slightly from the effort to keep up the pace, Stern raised his hands. "Merlin! I was only messing Connelly about. Save your threats for the suspect."

"Tell me about him."

"Tavis Kraven. Schooled at Durmstrang, employee of Gringotts, wife's English and used to getting knocked around for 'defying his wishes', according to the neighbours. This time, the housekeeper broke down and took her to St. Mungo's. The Healer immediately contacted the DMLE."

"Is Kraven a pure-blood?"

Stern frowned as if recalling a preliminary report. "Yeah."

"Is the wife?"

"Don't know. He only ranted about the arrest being an insult to his own family name."

We went directly to the interview rooms and stopped in front of the one with spectators crowded around a large two-way mirror. Stern didn't listen when I said “Wait here,” so I shut the door in his face.

I strolled over to the table positioned in the centre of the room. A pitcher of water and a glass, filled but untouched, rested on the wooden surface.

"Stuffy in here, isn't it?" I told the two men who seemed to be engaged in some kind of face-off across the table.

The suspect watched me pick up the glass and take a drink before setting it down. He snatched it up and quaffed the rest. Ron Crantz's doughy face showed annoyance. I grinned. "What? Did he think you put Veritaserum in the water?" I sat on the edge of the table and swung my leg. "We don't need potions to get the truth."

Kraven snorted. "You don't scare me."

I took his measure in a glance. Thirties, Slavic good looks and the arrogance to go with it—he was use to intimidating, not being intimidated. I drawled, "Well, we'll have to work on that."

Kraven looked me up and down in a way that revealed even more about his character. "A woman? Impossible."

Tempted to morph my face into something out of a Muggle horror film, I smiled instead. "You're the old-fashioned type, aren't you? The kind that believes a woman shouldn't do a  _man's_ job." I gazed across at Crantz. "He probably thinks I'm lucky you don't smack me down for talking out of turn."

"You are lucky," Kraven spat.

I saw the gleam of satisfaction in Crantz's eyes and shared the excitement of getting the suspect to talk. I turned to look the wizard full on. "Like your wife?"

Kraven didn't answer.

I said, "You do consider her fortunate to hold that exalted position, don't you? I mean…considering that she has relations whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath your own?" The line from  _Pride and Prejudice_ was used in a burst of inspiration. This bloke was a Mr. Darcy stripped of redeeming qualities.

The suspect's expression was wary. "Yes, Amelia was fortunate."

I wanted to keep him talking. "After all, your stratum of society was far above hers."

Kraven's posture relaxed a little. "What do you know of such things?"

I curled my lip at him. "I belong to an  _Ancient and Noble House._ Our motto is  _Tojours Pur._ " His eyes flickered. He knew what it meant. I asked, "What's yours?"

" _Vigyázat_...Caution."

I raised a brow. "You weren't cautious about marrying a woman whose inferior bloodline was degradation to your family. Does your wife appreciate the obstacles you had to overcome for her?"

Kraven said tightly, "Of course."

I shook my finger at him. "Now, now, we know she doesn't, or you wouldn't have needed to  _remind_ her so forcibly." I leaned toward him. "You allowed inclination to override judgment, damaged your standing in the highest circles for her." I lowered my voice. "You went against will, against reason...even against character."

I pulled back sharply, raising my voice. "And she had the nerve to go against  _you?"_ I laughed shortly. "The filthy half-blood dared to defy your wishes? After the sacrifices you made for her?"

Kraven nodded. I stood. "She deserved what she got!" I took a step forward. "She deserved a beating!"

"Yes," he whispered.

I got in his face. "She deserved the  _Cruciatus!"_

"Yes!"

I backed away, heart pounding, unable to believe he'd admitted it. "You craven bastard."

Kraven's face was white. He shouted, "I only said she deserved it! I didn't confess! You can't prove I did it!"

"He's right," Crantz said angrily. "Without direct confession or the wand...."

I shoved annoying long hair out of my face. "Where's the stuff he had on him at the time of his arrest?" I turned to the surveillance mirror. "Somebody bring Kraven's personal effects in here right this bloody minute!"

"What are you thinking?" asked Crantz.

"Maybe he hid the wand in plain sight."

Stern carried in a packet and a silver-topped walking stick. While he dumped the contents of the packet onto the table, I picked up the cane.

Kraven sneered. "There's no secret compartment."

I lifted my knee and held the stick at both ends. "Then you won't mind me breaking it."

His nostrils flared.

Stern smiled nastily. "If you're going to break it, crack it against his head."

I straightened and began to twirl the cane like a Muggle baton. My cousin Rita had been in band. "I won't damage the evidence that's going to send Mr. Kraven here to Azkaban."

Crantz said, "He didn't beat his wife with the cane, and the wand isn't hidden inside it."

I stopped playing around before I lost control and whacked somebody in the face. I held the cane out. " _Aperio!_ "

The spell forced the wood to reveal its true form—a wand.

Kraven dove for me.

" _Reducto!_ " I yelled. He was blasted off his feet. I gave the wand to Crantz and headed for the door. "Enjoy the paperwork, boys."

Stern called after me, "What? You're going to leave before the reporters get here?"

"You got someplace else to go?" Crantz asked.

"Yeah. See you."

Outside, I was congratulated and clapped on the shoulder until I pulled Jerry away from the throng of well-wishers. He said as we retraced our steps to the Auror Office. "You could have used a Stunning Spell."

Stars and stones, now Jerry was disappointed in me? I veered toward the stairs.

"Tonks, wait!"

"Get a trainee to take notes for the rest of the day." I yanked open the door. "I've got someplace else to go."

 

 

 

My mother had made a new wreath for the front door. It was gorgeous, bursting with late summer blooms. The Muggle neighbour across the street probably gnashed her teeth in envy over it.

Mum opened the door with a smile. "Nymphadora! What a pleasant surprise. Have you dropped by for lunch?"

I hugged her, wrapping my arms around her waist in the same way I had as a child. My head didn't rest on her stomach anymore. I was a big girl now. I rested it on her shoulder.

She rubbed my back. "It's all right, love. Everything will be all right."

Tears rolled down my face. "You don't know what I've done."

Her lips brushed my hair. "Come tell me over tea and chocolate torte."

I laughed jaggedly. "I don't think even chocolate will make me feel better."

"If it doesn't, we'll break out the wine."

"OK."

It was comforting, watching Mum go through the routine of making tea and slicing the torte. She gave me a double slice. My stomach rumbled at the aroma of dark chocolate. At that moment, I could have eaten the entire cake.

I was glad I hadn't after I sat beside her on the glider in the back garden and began to talk. The knots in my stomach tightened as I shared a judiciously edited version of everything that happened after I discovered the Binding Spell.

We glided back and forth for a few minutes in silence after I finished speaking. Mum said while we continued to stare out at the garden, "Your father and I have always tried to keep our…disagreements…private."

I turned to stare. "You and Dad have fights? I don't believe it!"

She smiled a little. "We're very different people, Ted and I. We don't always agree on the right way to handle situations…or people."

"Such as?"

"Such as when you were two and we were seated near Narcissa and Lucius at Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlour. Cissy made a snide comment about 'messy little half-breeds', so I changed her ice-cream to strawberry." Mum smirked. "My sister is allergic to strawberries. Not terribly so, but she breaks out in an awful rash."

"Dad got mad at you for that?"

Mum sighed. "Ted has always taken the moral high road. His parents taught him to 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' Mine advised me to hex first and ask questions later if the enemy could talk. Such differences are bound to inspire conflict."

I felt like I was seeing her as a person as well as a mother. "What did you do when you had…conflicts?"

She leaned over and kissed my cheek. "I listened to my mother-in-law and never let the sun go down upon my anger." Mum smiled wickedly. "We stayed up and fought on several occasions, but the making up was worth it."

That was more information than I wanted to know, but she did make me feel better. "So I should go and have it out with Remus?"

"No."

"But you said—"

"Different circumstances, darling. You need to release your anger, perhaps owl or speak in a communication fire before the sun goes down, but Remus was the one hurt. He needs to be the one who initiates making up."

Bollocks.

Mum took my hand in hers. "Time for wine?"

"And more chocolate."

The wine didn't get me drunk, but it did make me sleepy. I ended up taking a nap on my old bed and waking when my mother said gently, "The sun's setting, love."

"Shit!" I slipped on my shoes and hugged her. "Thanks, Mum. Bye."

 

 

 

I ran downstairs and Flooed home. In my bedroom, I took the communication mirror out of the drawer in the bedside table and sat on the bed, gathering my nerve. What if he didn't answer?

Heart in my throat, I said, "Remus."

The reflective surface of the mirror remained clear for so long, my eyes started tearing up. I held my breath when it showed the face of the man I loved.

"Yes, Nymphadora?"

The lump in my throat made it hard to swallow. "I wanted to say…."  _I love you. I'm sorry. I'll say anything, do anything, be anything you want if you'll come over here and hold me._ "I love you and…goodnight."

His expression softened. "Goodnight."

I continued to gaze at the mirror dully after his image faded. He didn't say 'I love you.' Remus always told me he loved me before we went to sleep at night—always.

It hit me then, what I might have lost by my heedlessness. The pain was so overwhelming, I couldn't cry. I couldn't even pray anything more coherent than  _please…please…._

Remus's face appeared once more in the mirror. "I love you," he said softly.

This time, when the mirror became reflective again, I cried.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used names, (Tavis, Kraven, Amelia) as well as Vigyázat (on signs in the film, Hungarian for caution) and the You don't scare- work on that quote from Underworld Evolution . Thinking Kraven (my character, heh) was a bad Darcy had me digging out Pride and Prejudice to find Mr. Darcy's awful proposal for the right lines for Tonks to borrow.


	14. Out of Shadow

 

I tried to cry myself to sleep, but I couldn't do it. I blamed the afternoon nap and stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks Morty was too cheap to have repaired. _One, two, three . . . ._ If there was ever a leak, plaster would rain down on my head. I closed my eyes and tried to count sheep, but they immediately became wolves. Two of them started to get frisky.

The ward on the front door chimed. I leapt out of bed and grabbed a tissue before morphing my face to hide the splotchy skin and pink nose. I changed my hair back to short and spiky and ran to answer the door.

Jerry, not Remus, stood on my doormat. I tried to pretend I wasn't about to cry from disappointment. "Hi, Jerry, what's up?"

He looked at me uncertainly. "Are you all right?"

I sniffed. "Yeah." I tugged his arm. "Come on in. Do you want a beer?"

"Uh, sure."

He sat on the sofa and took a drink from the bottle before asking, "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

Aside from a trip to the off-license for a wine to pair with the sinfully expensive chocolate I planned to eat, I was at loose ends. "No."

Jerry flashed his Wizard Scout smile. "Great. Meg wants you to come over, have pizza and watch a film. She wants to meet Remus, and the girls she shares a flat with want to meet you, since they've heard so much about you. What do you say?"

I drank half the beer in one long swallow. "Am I invited on my lonesome? Remus and I had a…disagreement…and . . . ."

Jerry put his bottle on the table. "You must be upset. If you don't want to hang out, everyone will understand."

I envisioned myself staggering drunk, attempting to write poetry on chocolate-stained parchment. It was not a pretty picture. "I'll go."

"Good!" His brow creased as he gazed at my wrinkled tunic and trousers. "Are you ready, or would you like to change?"

I finished my beer. "I'll change."

When I returned to the lounge, Jerry said, "That's…an interesting shirt."

I glanced down at the MegaMaggot tee. "I'm wearing a camisole underneath. You won't see my baps through the baggy armholes."

His mouth fell open. "I wasn't saying…I didn't notice."

"It's cool. I just didn't want you to think I was a hardcore Maggot, letting nothing get between me and the band, so to speak."

Jerry burst into laughter. "You're having me on, right?"

"Come to a concert with me sometime and see for yourself."

"No, thank you." Jerry headed for the door. "We can Apparate to her neighbourhood and walk from there."

Meg and her friends didn't live in luxury, but the house that had been converted into flats wasn't a typical residence of students, either.

"Her roommate Grace's mum is in real estate. She bought the flat as an investment and only charges the girls for the property taxes," said Jerry, climbing the steps. Inside, he told the old woman leaving her apartment to walk her dog, "Good evening, Mrs. Sullivan."

"Good evening, Jerry!" she said warmly, before her tone cooled. "Please tell the girls to turn down their stereo. This isn't a sound-proofed building."

Only then did I catch the faint strains of rock music.

"I sure will, Mrs. Sullivan."

The woman beamed when he opened the front door for her. I pinched his cheek when it shut. "Aren't you the nice boy, turning the old ladies up sweet? Should Meg be jealous?"

Jerry grinned. "Shut up."

I followed him to the second floor, enjoying the music spilling out of Meg's flat. There was a melodic edge I really liked. When one of the flatmates opened the door, I asked, "What's the name of the song that's playing?"

" _Fell on Black Days._ You like Soundgarden?"

I nodded. "Yeah. They're heavy but…hypnotic, almost."

"Exactly! _Superunknown_ isn't quite  _badmotorfinger,_ but it's still an unbelievable album."

From inside the flat, Meg called, "Let them in, Stacie!"

The girl slapped her palm to her forehead. "I'm such a blonde. Come in. Hey, Jerry, and you must be Tonks."

I shook her hand while Jerry said in a regretful tone, "Mrs. Sullivan asked that you turn down the music."

Stacie rolled her eyes and hollered over her shoulder, "Lower the bloody volume!" She led us out of the tiny entry into the lounge. "Grace blared Frank Sinatra the other day, and the old hag never complained."

The brunette turning down the volume on an enormous stereo smirked. "That's because I have good taste in music and you don't." She looked at my shirt. "No offence."

"None taken." I thought of Remus and sighed. "I like jazz as well as rock and pop."

Meg came into the room carrying a tray with a couple of bottles of wine and six glasses. Her voice was as perky as her blonde ponytail. "Does your boyfriend like jazz, too, Tonks? We could put some...on." She halted, asking, "Didn't you bring Remus with you?"

"No. He wasn't feeling well."

"Oh."

I caught the tightness in her voice. "I'm sure he'd love to meet you...maybe at Jerry's, if we can sneak past Mrs. C. You how delightful she is."

Jerry was making a face at me. I shot him a “what did I say” look.

"I haven't met his mother yet," Meg said frostily.

I told her, "Believe me, that's a sign of caring."

Stacie asked, "Is she like my mum, Jerry? Scaring off anybody you try to bring home?"

He smiled a little.

Meg wasn't smiling. "She didn't scare off Tonks."

I said jokingly, "She doesn't waste her ammunition on his mates."

Meg relaxed and smiled, so I decided not to be paranoid and worry my friend had hooked up with another psycho girlfriend. She was probably feeling insecure because she wanted Jerry to bring her home to meet the folks while he didn't want to sabotage a new relationship.

The doorbell rang. Grace took a long time paying for the pizza. Stacie whispered, "She's got the hots for the delivery boy. We get pizza twice a week so she can flirt with him."

"What a kind friend you are."

"More like none of us can cook."

I laughed. "That's what takeaway is for!"

When the pizza boxes were set on the low table in front of the sofa, Meg sat down beside Jerry, leaning over to open a box. "Guests first."

"No, ladies first."

"You're so gallant." Meg's smile wilted a bit when she looked at me. "Go ahead, Tonks."

I sat on the floor and leaned back against the couch. No way was I about to sit by Jerry and have his girlfriend watching me like a hawk all night.

Stacie sat crossed-legged beside me. "Have you ever seen  _Willow?"_

"No. What's it about?"

Grace read from the back of the box.  _"When young Willow Ufgood finds an abandoned baby, he is suddenly thrust into an adventure filled with magic and danger."_

Meg said, "I don't mind the adventure, but why do these kinds of films always have to have magic?"

She said magic the way Narcissa Malfoy said Muggle.

Grace put the film into the player with an impatient shake of her head. "Don't go on one of your reality rants, Meg. Some of us want to believe in magic and fairy tales."

Meg smiled at Jerry. "You don't, do you?"

He shot me a nervous glance before answering, "Well, yes, I do, actually."

His girlfriend looked surprised. "But you seem so down-to-earth and practical."

"Shhh!" Stacie said. "The film is starting!"

After a few minutes, the tense atmosphere dissipated. The story was good. Willow reminded me of a young Professor Flitwick while the long-haired swordsman Madmartigan acted a lot like Sirius. The brownies, Franjean and Rool, were hilarious, and the baby, Elora Danan, was the cutest I had ever seen. She looked like a Weasley with her red hair.

Jerry and I both laughed when Madmartigan told Willow,  _"That's magic? It smells terrible."_  I mouthed “Potions” at him. He nodded. I saw Meg eyeing me and immediately turned toward the television set.

Within seconds, Jerry's girlfriend was giggling. It wasn't a sound of amusement. It was the sound of a girl making a move on her boyfriend. I didn't look, but Stacie did. "Subtle, Meg, real subtle," she muttered.

It didn't bother me to hear another couple get romantic. All it did was make me want to snog Remus. That wasn't an option, so I sat through the rest of the film and then told everyone thanks for inviting me.

Meg didn't ask me to stay, but her roommates did. I told them, "Thanks, but I have to get up and go running in the morning."

"I run too!" Stacie said.

Grace laughed. "You run and then walk home after you quit and head for the nearest café."

"At least you try," I said, "and coffee is important too."

"Hear that?" Stacie gloated. She smiled at me. "I'll walk you out."

Jerry stood. "Maybe I should go too."

"No, stay," I said firmly.

"Yes, stay," Meg coaxed.

I gave a little wave and strode out of the room. Stacie opened the front door. "I have to apologise for Meg," she said in a low voice. "For some crazy reason, she thinks you don't have a boyfriend—that you're only saying you do so she won't know you're after Jerry."

My jaw dropped. "Why would I name an imaginary boyfriend  _Remus?"_

"That's what Grace and I said. Colin, Hugh, Alan, Kenneth—those are fantasy names." When my expression remained blank, she said, "Film star names."

" _Right._ " I smiled even though I had no clue to whom she was referring.

 

 

 

When I returned home, I found a big black dog lying on the lounge rug beside a mound of footwear. I sagged against the door. "Not my shoes. You didn't chew my shoes."

The dog transformed into a man. "Of course I didn't. Cami told me shoes are sacred to women." He looked down at the pile of heels, boots and trainers. "Thought about it, though." Sirius's grey eyes were steely. "I was that angry."

"I'm truly sorry."

His expression became rueful. "I can't say I've never pulled a stunt without considering the consequences." Sirius's lips twisted. "Moony avoided me for months after the prank fifth year."

I felt light-headed. "Months?"

Sirius caught me before I hit the floor. "Damn it! I wasn't implying you should expect the same treatment!" He hauled me over to the sofa and dumped me on it. "Head between your knees, take deep breaths."

I groaned. "I think I had too much wine and not enough pizza."

"There's no pizza in this flat. I know, because I was bored, so I checked the cupboards and the coolant cabinet. You're now out of crisps and ice-cream."

"Jerry's girlfriend invited me over for pizza and a film."

"Ace. While Remus sits alone and brooding, you're partying."

I raised my head up so fast I got dizzy. "I wasn't partying!"

He helped me up and steered me to the bedroom. "Drowning your sorrows. Whatever. Sleep it off."

"Do you forgive me?"

"Yes."

I clutched his sleeve. "Promise?"

He ruffled my hair. "To prove it, I'll retrieve your shoes."

I was confused. "They're in the lounge, in a pile."

Sirius backed away, grinning. "Half of them are. I buried the rest in the back garden."

My fingers released fabric to drop limply to the bed. "You really were angry."

He winked. "Where do you think the phrase 'black temper' came from?"

 

 

 

It had to swallow my own anger the following evening. Arthur had stopped by that morning to ask if I would take his place on night duty. He was watery-eyed and sniffling, so I agreed at once. "Will Remus be with me?"

He turned away to sneeze. "I believe so."

My temper was pricked when I walked down the corridor, making no effort to muffle my steps, and received no acknowledgment whatsoever. Would it compromise his principles to say hello?

I decided two could play that game. If Remus wouldn't talk to me, I wasn't going to talk to him either. I glared at the space I imagined him to be sitting in.

Two torturous hours into the vigil, I broke the silence. "How long are you going to make me pay for going behind your back to do that spell?" When he started to speak, I overrode him. "NO! You didn't want to talk to me when I got here, so you can stay silent and listen to me." I took a deep breath. "I was wrong. I'm sorry. I want to work past this. What can I do?"

He didn't answer. I cried, "Are you just going to sit there?"

"You told me to stay silent."

" _AAHHH!"_  That wasn't Remus's voice! I rattled off a string of curse words my mother would have scourgified my mouth out for. "Merlin's knickers, Snape! Why aren't you at Hogwarts making students miserable?"

"Dumbledore requested I take Lupin's place when word came of another werewolf meeting."

I was reluctantly curious. "You can Apparate that far?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a better potion than Up-And-At-Em to keep you awake if you need it?"

"Yes."

He wouldn't share the name? I said angrily, "Well, whooptee-bloody-do! Why did you let me spill my guts like that?"

"Would you have allowed me to interrupt?"

No. I crossed my arms and wished Apparation was possible within the Ministry.

"From your outburst, I take it you found a way to render the werewolf harmless."

I remembered the warm rasp of a wolfish tongue against my muzzle. "Yeah."

A trace of interest coloured his voice. "Did the spell involve blood?"

"Yes."

"Was it a onetime sacrifice, or must you repeat the procedure every full moon?"

"Once for all time, it said."

"Yet Lupin failed to appreciate the gesture." He made a weird huffing sound.

I was ready to start jinxing. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No. Merely at the irony."

I slumped against the wall. "What am I going to do now?"

"Do not look to me for advice."

"But you'd be such a natural. Imagine it." I affected a girlish voice. " _Dear Snarky Severus, I've been a naughty girl and now my boyfriend isn't talking to me. Whatever shall I do?"_

He didn't answer for so long, I thought I'd mortally offended him.

I was tensing to dive out of hexing range when he said, "Ask him to meet you somewhere. Work your wiles, if you have any."

I almost fell over. Snarky Severus had actually given me advice! It was brilliant. I could owl and ask Remus to meet me at the jazz club for a drink tomorrow night. "Thank you. I'll do that."

"Thank me with silence."

"OK."

I heard a hissing noise of irritation.

"Sorry."

Snape exhaled heavily.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle and happily spent the remaining hours of duty planning.

 

 

 

The next afternoon, I rushed into Siva's new shop  _Nail Magic_ and plopped down into a chair with a smile on my face and Remus' agreement to meet at eight in my pocket.

"Your eyes are like stars. Do you have a date tonight?" Siva asked, beginning the routine to transform my nails.

"Yes." I blurted out that Remus and I had disagreed, that we hadn't seen each other for a couple of days, and I was going to see him tonight.

"You seem excited, but not confident. Why is that?"

I stared into a serene dark gaze. "How do you always know these things? Are you psychic?"

"No. I talk to women all day long. I analyse more than a psychiatrist."

"And give them gorgeous nails," I said admiringly. The raspberry coloured varnish matched the fabric of the dress I planned to wear.

After my fingers and toes were prettified, Siva called to her assistant, "Take my next appointment for me, please." She gestured for me to follow her to the back of the shop. In a tiny office filled with boxes of supplies, she took a book off her desk and showed me a picture of a woman's foot and ankle.

I traced the vine pattern with a fingertip. "That's henna, right?"

"Not ordinary henna. The  _Lotus of Lakshmi."_

"Lakshmi is a goddess?"

Siva smiled. "Yes, she is the goddess of multiplicity and fortune, consort of Vishnu, and born as his spouse whenever he incarnates. She is inseparable from him as knowledge from intellect, good deeds from righteousness."

I pictured two wolves. Did that count as an incarnation, a manifestation of our spirits? It was a little too deep for me. I stuck to practicalities. "I don't see a lotus flower."

"The meaning of the lotus is estranged love, but Lakshmi in her generosity gave a petitioner—who prayed to know if her husband still desired her—spells to chant while she prepared henna." Siva pointed to the vine in the picture. "As desire grew, so would the vine, winding its way up until…the lotus bloomed."

I put my hand on her arm. "You can do this?"

"If you wish."

I hugged her. "Yes!"

Siva smiled widely. "I will gather my supplies."

Curious, I asked, "What colour will the lotus be?"

Her smile was mysterious. "Every lotus is different. Ask your lover to tell you."

 

 

 

It was our first date all over again, except now I knew what he looked like naked and I was even more nervous. Remus loved me. I didn't doubt that, but I was unsure of how far he wanted to “make up” tonight.

"That's where you come in," I said, looking at the pattern of henna on my foot.

My hands were shaking as I pulled on the nude-coloured under slip that kept my outfit from being too revealing. Made of numerous raspberry coloured silk ribbons that 'tied' on the side seam, the overdress was short and sexy.

Subtle makeup and not-so-subtle high heeled slides completed my ensemble.

Morty and Lisa were walking up the stairs while I was coming down. "Dressed to kill," my uncle said with a wink.

"I think she wants to make love, not war." Lisa smiled.

"I didn't hear that," said Morty, practically dragging his fiancée up the steps.

Remus was standing outside the jazz club, waiting for me. In a plain black shirt and trousers, he made it hard to remember my plan to take things slow. I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him breathless.

"Hello," I said when he caught sight of me.

"Hello. I remember that dress from our first date. You look beautiful."

I felt beautiful. I also felt a tingle, as though he had run a finger along the inside of my ankle. My heart jolted. The henna magic really worked! "Thank you."

"Shall we?"

It took a second to realise he meant enter the club. I had been staring at his lips. "Sure."

Remus's fingers slid between the ribbons of my dress at my waist while he escorted me to a table. A shiver rippled down my spine and up my leg.

"Cold?" he murmured, after he pushed in my chair.

There was a smile in his voice, and a darkening of his eyes that said he was well aware heat was the cause of that shiver, not cold. I waited for him to sit down and crossed my left leg over my right.

Remus's gaze was immediately drawn to the reddish-brown designs. "What's that?"

I was thrilled to see the vine was now a third of the way up the inside of my calf. "Henna."

His fingers reached out. "May I?"

"Of course."

The sensation of Remus touching my skin turned me into a love-struck, babbling fool. "In case you wondered, Siva didn't do the henna on the left because I have two left feet."

He traced the intricate pattern on my foot with his fingertips. "You don't have two left feet. You're a graceful dancer."

"I'm dead clumsy on occasion, but it's not because of that, or because I'm left-footed."

Remus followed the single vine that emerged from the tangle on my foot up my ankle. "Left-footed, as in football, when Muggles take a left-footed shot at the goal?"

"MmmHmm, or parrots."

He lifted his hand from my leg, not noticing that the vine had wound upward a few millimetres since he first touched me. "Parrots are left-footed?"

"Most of them…and polar bears usually kill their prey with the left paw." He chuckled. I said, "Siva knows all kinds of interesting things."

A server approached. Remus blinked in surprise when I ordered a Butterbeer. "Make that two, please," he said.

When we were alone again, the corners of Remus's mouth turned up. "Are you afraid wine would make you sleepy after last night's duty?"

I meant to answer lightly. Instead, I blurted, "I missed saying goodnight to you."

He looked away, toward the painting of Duke Ellington on one of the yellow-washed walls. "There was a meeting, and technically, you didn't go to sleep."

"I missed hearing you say 'I love you' almost as much as I missed saying those words to you."

I had his full attention. "I've missed you, too, in every way." The intensity of his gaze gave me hope that tonight I would say goodnight wrapped in his embrace. I moistened my lips and saw his eyes flare. The tingling rose halfway up my calf now. Remus glanced at my leg and then stared. "Wasn't that vine…?"

The server placed our drinks on the table. Applause rang out as the band walked onstage. During their set, I pretended to be riveted to the array of old standards. In actuality, I watched Remus while lightly swinging my leg in time to the beat. He seemed entranced by the vine sinuously growing. The pleasurable tingle now ended slightly above the inside curve of my knee.

"Nymphadora?"

There was a question in his voice I didn't want to answer yet. "The band's taking a break. Let's dance."

Remus frowned slightly. "Your leg."

I leaned over to place my hand on my foot and glide my palm upward. "Is fine."

"Yes, it is." He raised a hand to lift one of my ribbon straps back onto my shoulder. I wanted to kiss him so badly, but that wouldn't be letting him set the pace. I sighed.

He stood and pulled back my chair.

On the small dance floor, I swayed with Remus to the dreamy instrumental number, floating on air to be held close. He bent his head to murmur in my ear, "Tell me about the henna."

"It's magic."

I felt his chest shake with silent laughter. "That, I understand. What kind of magic?"

"Siva said desire made the henna vine grow until it blooms into the  _Lotus of Lakshmi."_

His hands had been tracing between the ribbons on my back. They lowered to my hips and pulled me closer. "How high has it grown?"

How high had the vine grown without kissing, without any stimulus other than the brush of his hands and the warmth of his body against mine? "It could burst into bloom with the least little encouragement."

Remus took my hand and led me toward the exit. "What colour will the lotus be?"

"Siva said that was something you would have to tell me."

The look he threw over his shoulder was tender and wolfish. "It will be my pleasure."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know the colour...and why...go read ch 5 of From the Battered Journal of Remus J Lupin. And if anyone hasn’t read the one-shot _Dear Snarky Severus_ , you’re invited to read that too!
> 
> I got an idea for henna magic and piecemealed random bits of information to create the Lotus of Lakshmi. If anyone ever needs a song from a certain year, everyHit dot com has the top 40 UK hits of every year since the fifties. I searched 1995 and Soundgarden's Fell on Black Days jumped out at me. Great song, and fit Tonks's mood perfectly! For the film, I really wanted to use The Craft, but it wasn't released until 1996. Since I love Willow, and it was released in 1988, I was happy to use it in the story. The quote from the back of the box is from the back of my DVD case, the line is from the film, and of course Warwick Davis who played Willow later played Professor Flitwick. :D


	15. Shadow of a Doubt

 

 

I didn't usually sing in the shower, but I was so happy, I couldn't help it. Since we’d made up, Remus and I had spent every night together. While I lathered my hair, I sang, "I'm in heaven when you kiss me."

" _Heaven when you kiss me."_

Another voice had started to sing along. "Ahhh! Sirius, what are you doing in here?"

He snickered. "Hear? You can hear me use the toilet over the shower?"

I was tempted to peel back a corner of the shower curtain and hurl a bar of soap at him. I gritted through my teeth, "You know what I meant! Why are you...doing that...while I'm in  _here_?"

I heard a flush. "Didn't know it was you until you started singing."

A blob of shampoo bubbles slid down my forehead, into my eye. "Ow! Damn!" I stepped beneath the spray and rinsed the soap out. "Who did you think was in here, you idiot? Cami?"

"No. She's downstairs in the kitchen, conjuring."

Cami's Sunday brunches were one of the reasons I slept over at Grimmauld Place on Saturday nights. That, and Remus and I usually spent half the night playing games or cards with Sirius and Cami if there wasn't an Order meeting.

I heard the sink faucet squeak as it was turned on and off. I asked, "So you thought it was Remus? Men are OK with that kind of thing?"

There was a draft as the lavatory door opened. Remus's voice sounded amused. "What kind of thing?"

"Mate, explain to my dear cousin that blokes do their business next to each other at urinals all the time. They don't need privacy like girls."

Remus's tone became dry. "Some of us prefer privacy and yet resign ourselves to living without it."

"I want privacy right now!" I yelled. "Get out of here, Sirius!"

There was a snicker. "What happened to the cheery little songbird?"

"She wants her back scrubbed."

Sirius laughed. "Sorry. When you were two, I humoured you, but now . . . ."

"Tell Cami we'll be down in half an hour," Remus said firmly.

I heard the door click shut.

I peered around the edge of the shower curtain. "Are we alone?"

"At last."

He stood unshaven, with tousled hair and his toes curled as if in protest against the cold tiles. I wanted to drag Remus into the shower, robe and all. I would happily kick a ball of soggy wet fabric out of our way.

The corners of his mouth jumped up. "Still want your back washed?"

I grinned and pulled the shower curtain open wider. "Gran always said cleanliness is next to godliness."

Remus chuckled and untied his robe.

 

 

Later, when we entered the kitchen, I felt divine.

"Are you humming that same tune?" Sirius asked, looking up from the  _Daily Prophet_.

"Yes, but it's a different verse." I didn't say the words were almost the same.  _I go crazy when you kiss me, crazy when you kiss me._

He pointed at me with a quill. "Five letter word for deviating from what is correct."

"Fudge."

"Error," said Remus, handing me a cup of coffee.

" _Thanks_ ," Sirius and I said at the same time.

Remus smiled as we took a seat at the table. "Who were you thanking, Padfoot?"

"Both of you."

Cami said, "He thanks you for making him win our wager." She began to take the stasis covers off the food. "Help yourselves."

I promptly snatched the platter of bacon away from my cousin's greedy paws. I offered it to Remus. "What was the bet?"

Sirius reached out to grab bacon off the plate. "I bet Cami that Remus would give the textbook definition while  _you,_ cousin, would answer sarcastically."

I rolled my eyes. "That wasn't sarcasm. It was the truth! Everyone at the Ministry calls mess-ups 'Fudge-ups.'"

"And rightly so," said Sirius. "People tend to blame the Minister for anything that goes wrong, whoever's in charge, but Fudge is biggest  _fudge-up_ in  _fudging_ history!"

"You mean in the history of fudge?" Remus said blandly.

"Fudge yeah!"

I asked Cami, "Does he have a t-shirt with 'arrested development' on it?"

"No, just  _arrested_."

Sirius gave a bark of laughter.

I threw a piece of toast at him.

He caught the triangle and promptly spread jam on it.

I selected another piece of toast, asking Remus, "What are you smiling at? Sirius acting like a seventh year?"

"Only Sirius?"

I stuck my tongue out at him.

The pantry door creaked open.

Sirius growled, "What do you want, you sneak?"

The house-elf edged into the kitchen. "Master is ordering not to wake the Mistress with the doorbell, so Kreacher is dutifully giving warning." He began to shuffle in the direction of the stairs, muttering, "Kreacher is preferring to hear the Mistress tell intruders to stop defiling the house, but must wait for the blood-traitor to leave before he is hearing his Mistress' voice again."

How could I feel sorry for the little bastard and want to yell at him shut up at the same time? "I'll answer the door."

The wizened face kept its doleful expression. "Is Kreacher's duty."

"I said I'll answer it!"

A gleam appeared in watery eyes. "If you is insisting."

I bit back an angry retort and stalked toward the stairway.

In the entry, a spell allowed me to view the visitor approaching the front door. It was Hestia Jones. Instead of being pink-cheeked with every hair in place as usual, her face was pale, and her hair was unkempt.

I unlocked the door as fast as I could. "Hestia! Are you all right?"

She burst into tears.

I wrapped an arm around her, leading her into the house. "What's wrong?"

"It's Sturgy!" she gasped, before breaking into hiccupping sobs.

"Come down and tell us about it." I felt unequipped to deal with hysterics. This was a job for Remus.

He rose immediately when we entered. "What is it, Hestia? Have you heard from Sturgis?"

Mad-eye had complained about Sturgis Podmore when we saw Harry and the children off to Hogwarts, but the man had a reason for not showing up for guard duty. He had been arrested for attempting to break into a 'top secret door' at the Ministry of Magic.

Everyone in the Order knew Sturgis must have been placed under an Imperius Curse. You-Know-Who would use any means to force entry into the Department of Mysteries. Unfortunately, such a thing could not be proven. Without being able to say a word in his defence, Sturgis was sentenced to six months in Azkaban.

For the last month, Hestia had sent frequent care packages filled with notes and items permitted by the Ministry. When she removed a letter from her pocket, I thought it was from her partner.

She thrust it into Remus's hand. "Read this!"

He carefully unfolded the parchment. After a glance at Hestia, he read the message aloud.

**Miss Jones,**

**I ferry the mail to Azkaban prison, so I've seen the packages you've sent. I also heard the guards say since you're not on the approved senders list, they're happy to eat all the treats and throw out your letters. I wanted you to know, so you do could something about that.**

Sirius said harshly, "An approved senders list? Who's responsible for that?"

Cami brought Hestia a cup of tea. "Someone at the Ministry who has nothing better to do than think up ways to legislate misery for their fellow man."

"Dolores Umbridge," said Remus. "She drafted anti-werewolf legislation. I wouldn't put it past her to target prisoners as well." His expression became pained. "I only hope she spares some kindness for her new students."

Sirius growled, "She doesn't. Harry said she's foul enough to be a Death Eater."

I thought of the letter I’d received from Ginny the other day.

 

_Mum says you're not supposed to hate anyone, but I do. I hate Professor Umbridge. Not for making the class read chapters from boring textbooks instead of learning how to defend ourselves against the Dark Arts. Not for interrupting other classes, evaluating the teachers and hem, hemming all the time like a toad with a fly stuck in her throat. I hate her because of what she's doing to Harry._

_He's constantly in detention and always looks pale and tired and miserable. He never complains, but I just know she's awful to him._

_Please don't tell Sirius or Professor Lupin what I told you about Harry. I shouldn't have mentioned it, except I needed to tell someone, and I trust you._

 

I turned to Hestia. "I know someone who can get your name added to the approved list."

Remus said, "Do you really think Scrimgeour will do it?"

"The Head of Aurors?" Hestia set her teacup down to take my hands in a tight grip. "I never thought…but you're an Auror, so why shouldn't he…you'll ask today?" When I nodded, she started crying again, this time in happiness.

Cami said, "If you’d like to conjure up a new batch of treats while you wait, I'd be glad to help. I'm Cami, a friend."

Hestia sniffed. "I'm Hestia. Yes. Thank you. I fortify them with health and wellness spells. Sturgy likes the way they make the biscuits chewy."

I said, "I'll use the upstairs fireplace."

"I'll come with you," said Remus.

Sirius rose to his feet. "Me too."

Remus led the way upstairs. He asked, "Is it wise to ask Scrimgeour for favours?"

I hunched a shoulder. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Behind me, Sirius said, "I think my mate's worried Scrimgeour might want  _favours_ in return."

"I already do him favours."

Sirius sniggered. "Not the kind Moony gets."

Remus opened the door to the entry. "That wasn't my main concern."

"But you are concerned about it," Sirius shot back.

I turned on my heel. "Scrimgeour is my boss. He doesn't hit on me. I do bodyguard work on the side, but that's the only  _favour_ he asks. If you don't shut up about it, I'll…I'll…."

Sirius's expression was alight with mischief. "Stutter at me?"

I remembered my mother, standing at the back door, ordering the dog that had splashed in mud puddles with her daughter to be gone or be infested with fleas. I concentrated hard.

Sirius lifted his hand to scratch his head. "Done glaring? You've got a communication fire to build."

I pivoted to find Remus watching me with a speculative look on his face. I fluttered my eyelashes at him. His eyes narrowed. I tried not to laugh when I heard Sirius continue scratching his fingers through his hair.

In the drawing room, Remus thoughtfully built the communication fire for me. He and Sirius stood back while I morphed my features and hair and waited for a face to appear in the green flames.

It wasn't Scrimgeour's. It was Mr. Stevens.

"Q, its Lola. I need to speak with the boss."

In proper butler fashion, Stevens replied formally, "Mr. Scrimgeour is not at home. Might I take a message?"

"Is he at work? I need to talk to him right away."

It was weird to see a floating head tilt sideways. "Officially, he is not in the office. Unofficially…."

"He's there, but he doesn't want to be disturbed. Got it. I'll only take a minute of his time, so tell him I'm on the way, and he needs to make sure there's a visitor's badge for me at security."

After a moment's silence, Stevens said, "Stop by the house. I will have a badge waiting for you."

"Cool. Will it have any hidden gadgets?"

He almost smiled. "The back of the badge will double as a reflective surface. You may use it to style your hair."

Sirius snorted in the background while I asked, "Are you saying I need to comb my hair?"

"Not at all, if windblown is the intended look."

I laughed. "See ya, Q."

When I ended the communication, Sirius asked, "Why can't you visit Scrimgeour as yourself?"

I morphed my face back to normal. "Because of gossip."

Remus said, "It would make people wonder why a man of his rank and experience needs to consult with a junior Auror."

"People meaning you?" Sirius jibed.

"No."

I smirked at the man now briskly itching at his chest. "See? He knows it's only because I'm a Metamorphmagus and useful to have around." I kissed Remus. "I'll return soon. Better ask Cami to give the mutt a flea bath while I'm gone."

My love smiled.

Sirius yelped, "I have  _fleas?"_

 

When Quentin Stevens opened the door, he had such an air of the gentleman about him, I was tempted to curtsy. He made a dark grey shirt and trousers imposing as full butler's regalia. "Come in, Miss Lola."

Curious, I asked, "Is there a Mrs. Stevens, Mr. Stevens?"

"Yes. Mrs. Stevens is Mr. Scrimgeour's housekeeper and chef."

"I'd like to meet her sometime." Was she stiff and serious like her husband, or a motherly sort like Molly Weasley? It would be interesting to find out.

"I'm sure she would be delighted to make your acquaintance as well."  _But not today_ was implied. He held out a silver badge. "I took the liberty of putting it on a chain to distinguish you as a frequent visitor."

I took it with a grin and flipped the badge over. With one touch of my fingertip, the back became a mirror. "Very cool, Q."

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. It looked a lot less odd with a neck attached.

 

 

At the Ministry, it was amusing how the sight of the shiny visitor's badge resting on my chest gained me offers of assistance. I politely declined escort several times, assuring each wizard that I knew exactly where Rufus's office was.

"Enter," Scrimgeour called.

I shook off the apprehensive, girl-called-to-the-Potions-Master's-office feeling, and strolled inside. Unlike Snape, Scrimgeour smiled to see me.

"I need someone put on the Azkaban approved senders list," I blurted.

My boss waved me to a seat. "That is not my area of jurisdiction."

I remained standing. "Doesn't matter. You can still do it."

He leaned back in his chair. "Tell me why I should."

"I have a friend who learned all her care packages are being taken by the guards because she isn't on the list."

Scrimgeour pointed to the chair again. This time, I sat. He regarded me in silence for a moment, yellowish eyes thoughtful, before he said, "Do you consider the list unfair?"

"Yes."

He smiled a little. "It isn't designed to be fair. That list is a Ministry tool. Your friend's packages aren't only confiscated, they're inspected."

"Inspected for what? Wands and skeleton keys?"

"Yes, those have been found, along with poisons and coded messages detailing everything from plots against the Ministry to escape plans."

I shook my head. "Then check the packages and confiscate anything illegal, taking away the privileges of those who break the rules." His inscrutable expression triggered an idea. "Security isn't the only reason for that list, is it?"

"No, it isn't. Those who desire addition trade information to join its ranks, information vital to every department of the Ministry."

It was hard to keep my hands from balling into fists. "Leverage against Hestia Jones isn't worth anything. She doesn't have any information to trade...but I do."

He went still as a lion visually tracking prey. "I'm listening."

"Sturgis Podmore isn't a Dark wizard. He was an unwitting agent. Whatever top-secret door he tried to break into, there's something inside Dark wizards want so badly, they used an Imperius to try and get it."

My boss picked up a quill. "The possibility of the Imperius Curse was noted in Podmore's file. Investigation revealed no evidence of association with groups subversive to the Ministry." He began to scratch a note onto parchment. "Lack of evidence is not proof of innocence, although it did ensure clemency. The sentence was only six months."

"Only six months?" How could he say that? Did Scrimgeour have any idea how terrible even a day in Azkaban was?

He didn't respond until the memo was sent zooming out of the office. "Yes.  _Only_ six months, out of a possible two years maximum sentence." His stern expression relaxed. "These things happen. The system is imperfect, and yet it is the only safeguard against chaos."

His voice had the same tone once used to quote Shakespeare. _This precious stone set in the silver sea, which serves it in the office of a wall, or as a moat defensive to a house, against the envy of less happier lands._

I always knew he was capable of acting ruthlessly for the greater good, but this was the first time I'd been affected personally. "I understand that."

"Excellent. Miss Jones will be added to the list."

"Thank you. I'll see myself out."

I was halfway to the door when Scrimgeour said, "Are you available next Sunday?"

I glanced back at him. "During the day, yes."

"Not at night?"

"No. It's the full moon." I didn't have to say I spent it with my partner. I could see he remembered that Remus was a werewolf.

"Ah. Then I shall instruct Mrs. Stevens to plan a luncheon instead of a dinner."

"You need me to watch your back over lunch in your own home?"

"The luncheon is for those who support my political ambitions. I'm sure at least one of them is a spy for Fudge." He smiled faintly. "I'd like you to discover who it is."

"Anything else?" I asked dryly.

His eyes flickered over my shorts and t-shirt. "Wear a dress."

"One of my showgirl outfits?"

He gave a rumble of amusement. "A regular dress will do. Mr. Stevens will owl the details later in the week."

"All right. Goodbye, sir."

"Au revoir, Lola."

 

 

Kreacher answered the door at Grimmauld. "The intruders is in the kitchen."

"Why the glum face? Didn't they offer you a biscuit?"

I'd been facetious, but the elf answered sombrely, "Kreacher is never offered biscuits."

Damn it. I hated feeling sorry for him. "What's your favourite kind?"

The house-elf drew himself up stiffly. "Kreacher is not wanting biscuits made by filthy interlopers. Not even if they is ginger!"

"Fine!"

I stomped downstairs to find Hestia and Cami had lined the long table with food ready for packaging. I was glad to be able to nod in response to Hestia's unspoken question.

She rushed over to hug me. "Thank you!"

I said awkwardly, "What are friends for?"

Remus and Sirius were playing wizard chess at the far end. Remus moved a pawn. "Did you ask Scrimgeour why there is such a list?"

"He said it's a tool to lever information valuable to all departments in the Ministry."

Sirius backhanded chess pieces to the floor. "The Ministry doesn't care about justice! All they care about is keeping the public fooled into thinking Voldemort hasn't returned!" He bent to gather the scattered pieces. "I hope you know what you're doing, cousin, working for Scrimgeour."

"So do I."

Unable to stand the tense silence, I grabbed a couple of ginger biscuits off a plate and headed to the pantry. I opened the cupboard leading to Kreacher's den and tossed them down into his hidey-hole. I stood and came face-to-face with Remus.

"That was very considerate of you."

I shrugged. "He'll probably let them rot so he can tell me he refused to eat biscuits touched by a freak."

Remus wrapped his arms around me. "You did the right thing, regardless."

I leaned into the hug and held him tight. "I'm trying," I whispered. "I'm trying."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's said like scripture, but the proverb “Cleanliness is next to godliness” isn't biblical. Thought to be an old Jewish proverb, the first mention of it in English was in the writings of Francis Bacon. The song Tonks sang in the shower, I'm in heaven when you kiss me, while appropriate for a pixie-ish wizard pop group, was borrowed from a Muggle one called ATC. There's even a youtube video of Ron and Hermione to that song, but I can't recommend it. I'd only give it a P because I'd feel mean to say Dreadful or Troll. :D


	16. Truth in Shadow

 

The week slid by too fast. I had meant to borrow a dress from Julia for Scrimgeour's luncheon, but Jerry and I were assisting on an actual case, not just some perfunctory enquiry, and time got away from me.

Whenever I wasn't at work, I was with Remus. We were both concerned about Sirius's drinking and the effect it might have on Cami, so we tried to keep them company as much as possible. It wasn't until Saturday night, when the four of us returned to Grimmauld Place after taking Snuffles for a walk, that I remembered I needed to borrow a dress.

Remus handed me a bottle of Butterbeer while I groaned that my memory had more holes than Swiss cheese. He said, "Didn't you mention Julia was out of town this weekend?"

I nodded. "I wonder if Tom changed the wards on the front door. I could go over and  _borrow_ something. _"_

"Aurors are supposed to prevent crimes, not commit them," Remus said with a smile.

"We could go shopping in the morning," Cami suggested.

I shook my head. "I refuse to spend Galleons when I'm trying to save."

"Andromeda always looks stylish. Borrow a dress from her," Sirius said.

"And have her grill me about why I want it? No, thank you."

My cousin grinned wickedly. "Afraid Mummy wouldn't approve?"

"I know she wouldn't."

"Then why do it?" Cami asked.

I felt defensive with three sets of eyes staring at me. "I took the job for the money, but I think Scrimgeour has a real chance to become the next Minister for Magic."

Sirius made a non-committal, “Hmm,” before asking, "You support that?"

"Yeah. He works for the greater good."

"The greater good for whom?" Remus's brow creased. "Is it for everyone in the wizarding world, or only those who have jobs and pay taxes?"

I said, "Everyone, I hope."

"I hope so too." Remus changed the subject. "Why don't you borrow a dress from Jan?"

My neighbour, Jan Rocher, aside from being a goddess of chocolate, was a woman of impeccable taste. I smiled in relief. "Once again, you prove your genius."

" _Genius?"_ Sirius gave a bark of laughter.

I narrowed my eyes into slits. "Did you enjoy having fleas?"

"Hah. I wouldn't have them long. Moony knows a flea-banishing spell."

"Think he'll use it again if you keep laughing?"

Sirius slanted an uneasy look at his friend. "No offence, mate."

Remus chuckled. "None taken. I've never claimed my NEWTS were all E-levels, although I wish I’d had more aptitude for Potions." He smiled ruefully. "A werewolf able to brew his own Wolfsbane Potion must be the happiest creature."

"Dunno, mate. I'm pretty damn happy as Snuffles when my fur's rubbed the right way."

Cami and I exchanged smiling glances. She mouthed “genius” and waggled her eyebrows. I laughed with her.

"What are you girls giggling over?" Sirius asked.

"Nothing," Cami said.

He pounced. "Then I'll give you a reason to giggle!"

While Sirius ticked Cami, I set down my Butterbeer to hug Remus. "Don't listen to him. You are a genius."

His eyes gleamed. "In certain areas, I'm glad you think so."

My back was to the other couple, leaving me free slide my hands down to Remus's arse unnoticed.

So I thought.

" _Intruder approaching!"_

I jumped, hastily removing my hands from my partner's backside.

Kreacher had materialised directly behind Remus. His expression was as dark as the wall behind him. "Is you wanting to answer the door, or is you too  _busy?"_

I glared. "I'll go."

I peeked at Remus. His lips were twitching. I scowled on my way upstairs. It wasn't funny! The elf snogged inanimate objects in his love of all things Black, yet dared to act like I was the pervert.

Unbidden, an image flashed to mind, of me hugging Remus's pillow on the nights we'd spent apart. I told myself that was completely different. I didn't snog it! I only held the pillow…and rubbed my cheek against it, because it smelled like him.

I opened the door with determined cheer. "Wotcher, Kingsley!"

"Tonks."

He wore dark trousers with a white t-shirt. I said, "Casual tonight. No plans?"

"No."

There was a note of warning in his deep voice. I bit my tongue to keep from asking nosy questions. I knew from past experience how annoying it was to be constantly hounded to date. Besides, I didn't know anyone I could set him up with.

In the kitchen, Kingsley declined the beer Sirius offered. He said, "Pardon me, Cami, but I have Order business to discuss."

She smiled. "I'll go read in the drawing room."

After the door closed, Kingsley announced, "Hestia Jones has been added to Azkaban approved senders list."

Remus said, "Yes, we know."

"Do you know how she got on the list?" Kingsley's tone was grave. "What information she traded for it?"

"She didn't trade any information," I said. "I did. I asked Scrimgeour to put her on the list and told him Sturgis had attempted the break in due to an Imperius Curse."

"You  _asked?_ When?"

"Last Sunday."

Kingsley shook his head. "I keep track of who goes into Scrimgeour's office. You haven't been there in weeks."

Sirius snickered. "She was a blonde showgirl at the time."

" _You're Lola?"_

If Kingsley had said, “you're a slag?” I think the tone would have been exactly the same. "I'm not dating him," I said, "I'm working a side job."

"As an  _escort?"_

There was that inflection again. I snapped, "As a  _bodyguard_." I looked at Remus. "Explain the situation, please. I'm going to borrow a dress."

 

 

I was still fuming when I rapped on the back entrance to  _Chocolat._

Alan Rocher invited me inside with a smile. "Perfect timing. Jan's dishing up cherry clafouti."

My stomach rumbled at the mention of the warm, pudding-like dessert. "I don't want to intrude," I said half-heartedly. "I only wanted to ask Jan a favour."

"There's whipped cream."

"OK, I'll ask over clafouti."

He led the way through the professional kitchen to the stairs leading up to the flat. In the elegant lounge that made mine look shabby without any chic by comparison, I thanked Jan for the hospitality and apologised for barging in without notice.

"We've missed your visits," she said, sitting beside her husband on the sofa.

I took a bite of cherry, cake-y deliciousness. "Mmm, me too."

They traded smiles, probably thinking I was acting like their teenaged daughter Anouk. I thought they were the kind of couple I admired most. They complemented each other. It wasn't only outwardly, his blond, English good looks with her dark, French beauty. Their personalities went well together. When Remus and I had been a couple as long as Alan and Jan, I wanted to have the same vital, loving relationship.

In the way of friends, we chatted easily and about everything. An hour sped by. Alan said smilingly, "You had a favour you wanted to ask, Tonks?"

Sheepishly, I asked Jan, "Do you have dress that would look good on a thirty-something blonde who's trying to impress luncheon guests?"

Eyes like dark chocolate sparkled. "Is this for one of your side jobs?"

I nodded. "I'm a bodyguard disguised as a showgirl named Lola."

Alan chuckled. "With yellow feathers in your hair?"

"And a dress cut down to there, usually," I said with a smile. "You know your Barry Manilow."

He shot his wife a dry look. "Through years of exposure."

Jan stood. "Let's find you a dress,  _mon amie_."

I followed her to the back of the flat. I couldn't help asking, "When you first heard the song  _Mandy,_ did you think it was about a girl?"

" _Non_. She gave without taking. I knew she must be a dog or cat, but it was touching, all the same."

I gazed around the bedroom decorated in chocolate, black and mocha, while she looked through her wardrobe. "Do you use an anti-clutter spell to keep everything so tidy?"

"I use a cleaner, Blanche, who I take to lunch every Friday after she makes my house shine, because she is a treasure."

There was not a speck of dust on gleaming wood. "Bet she's expensive."

"Very, but like this dress, worth the Galleons."

The sleeveless, three-quarter-length dress was brown silk with a beige floral pattern. Turquoise-coloured leaves were the only splashes of bright colour.

Jan saw my expression and laughed. "Trust me. The colours will flatter, and the dress will fit perfectly, thanks to charms."

"D'you think I could get away with turquoise shoes?"

She laughed softly. "If you wish to be seen as a showgirl."

 

 

I wore high-heeled dress sandals to the luncheon. They were neutral, boring, and the moment I got back home, I was changing the colour back to turquoise.

Mr. Stevens nodded approvingly at my dress when he opened the door, so I returned the favour. "You're looking very butler-ish today, Q."

He tilted his head. "Thank you, Miss Lola. The guests are assembling on the patio."

That must mean they Apparated there to avoid being seen entering the home. "Nice day to dine alfresco."

"Indeed." He turned to lead the way. When I didn't follow, he paused. "Is there a problem, miss?"

I tried not to sound as blonde as I looked. "Well, um, I was wondering. Do you have any gadgets for me to try out today?"

He didn't smile openly, but his eyes crinkled. "Would you like me to find something?"

I twisted the  _fede_ ring he'd given me to detect poison. "If it isn't a bother."

"No bother."

I grinned. "Thanks, Q."

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly before he escorted me to the patio. I noticed right away that Scrimgeour's walled garden was professionally landscaped. While lush and green, it didn't have the personal touches my mother's did. Instead of a small outdoor set shaded by a parasol, there was a long table decked out in white linen, polished silver and flowers.

At one side of the patio was an elegant seating area. The guests congregated there, forgoing the chairs and benches to crowd around their host. I strolled over, wondering if he was flattered by all the attention.

"Lola, my dear, let me introduce you to our guests."

I smiled warmly, standing beside my boss like a proper trophy girlfriend. The Managing Director of Gringotts and the old Wizengamot member I'd met previously were there without partners, but there were a few significant others attending. One I recognised by her long, curly hair. It was Penny Clearwater.

Julia's cousin stood beside Percy Weasley at the edge of the patio, chatting with someone I recognised vaguely as a member of Magical Law Enforcement. Their position seemed to say they were welcome, but not important guests.

I wondered how Arthur would react if he knew his son was working against Fudge. Would the news be a comfort, or add to his worries?

I had mentally categorised those assembled into two groups—those who worked for the Ministry and those whose wealth and power influenced it—when another guest Apparated into the garden.

"Mr. Rosier, welcome," Scrimgeour called out.

My ex-fiancé strolled across the manicured lawn, blond and aristocratic as I remembered. "I would ask you to call me Evan," he drawled, "but until Fudge steps down, perhaps it's best to maintain the appearance of formality."

My boss smiled. I watched the men shake hands with a feeling of disbelief. Over two years ago, I'd given Evan back his ring because I couldn't marry a man who collaborated with Death Eaters. While it had been months since we'd crossed paths, I had no reason to believe his politics had changed. Was he a spy for Lucius—for Fudge?

"Charmed," Evan said, extending a hand in my direction.

I smiled weakly and kept my grip as limp as possible. Blue eyes gleamed with amusement. He seemed to believe I was showing no interest to keep my partner from being jealous. Evan always was conceited.

Stevens appeared at his employer's side in a way that rivalled Kreacher's stealth. When I stepped back to allow Scrimgeour to address his guests, the butler said quietly, "I found the bracelet you misplaced, Miss Lola."

I moved away from the group. "Thank you, Stevens." I took the gold bangle inlaid with opals and slid it on. "Where was it?" I really meant “what does it do?”

"The powder room, miss. It  _grows very warm_  in there. Perhaps it slid off."

So the bracelet grew warm when the spell activated. What kind of spell, though? I said, "Do you think it will happen again?"

"I'd be  _lying_ if I said there isn't a possibility. You might consider having the bracelet sized down for a better fit."

The bracelet would grow warm whenever someone lied. That was brilliant. I admired the way the opals seemed to catch fire. I murmured, "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

I startled when a hand touched my arm. It was my boss. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the table. In character, I nodded, smiling brightly as he pulled out my chair.

The other guests enjoyed the _fois gras_ served with a kind of peppered-pineapple relish and toasted brioche. I only took a bite of pineapple on toast.

"Is there something wrong with the _fois gras_?" Scrimgeour asked.

"Oh, no," I said. "I don't eat it because I'd feel too guilty, knowing a poor duck was force-fed so I could eat his liver." I made a face. "Silly, isn't it?"

"On the contrary," interjected a coolly amused voice. "I've known someone who felt the exact same way."

I forced myself not to stiffen, although inwardly I was saying “shit, shit, shit.” Why did Evan have to be seated within hearing range? I gazed across the table and to the left, meeting his questioning look with a smiling one. "Really? That makes me feel better."

"I'll have Stevens remove your plate if you like. I want you to be comfortable," said Scrimgeour. He patted my arm. If the touch was supposed to be reassuring, it wasn't. I wondered uneasily why his hand kept resting on my forearm. When he spoke, I realised he was continuing the partner act. "Does your fiancée share your political activism, Mr. Rosier?"

"She follows my lead in all things, Mr. Scrimgeour."

It wasn't a shock when my bracelet remained cool. I followed suit and didn't smirk or show my contempt for that remark. Prissy Parkinson had worshipped Evan since our first year at Hogwarts. Once, I had dared him to tell her to jump from the Astronomy Tower. I still believed she would've done it.

While the table was being cleared for the next course, I finally got my chance to meet Mrs. Stevens. I instantly liked her. She reminded me of Jan, elegant and talented at her craft, with a gracious manner. Although she only supervised, the woman noticed the _fois gras_ on my plate was untouched and came over to enquire about it.

Her dark eyes were kindly amused to hear my answer. She said, "Wizarding methods respect animal welfare. There is no discomfort."

I nodded as though glad to hear it, but inside I still held my “I'll believe that when I hear it from a duck” mindset.

During lunch, my bracelet warmed numerous times. The conversations around me were so boring, I was glad of the diversion. I made a little game of it, trying to guess whether the person speaking would lie or not. None of the lies were more than social, yes, I like, agree, etc untruths.

My boss never lied, which was heartening. I could support a Minister who was ruthless when it came to justice, but not a liar.

After his guests had finished the dessert of blackberry soufflé, Scrimgeour turned to me with a smile. "Lola, if you would escort the ladies inside?"

I thought for a second that he was kidding. "Of course," I said. "I would be happy to." Immediately, the bangle heated until I accidentally shook it off my wrist.

My boss picked it up, eyes gleaming gold with humour. "We'll be in shortly."

I slid the bracelet back on. "We'll be waiting."

Inside the spacious lounge, I poured tea for the women and made sure to keep Penny involved in the conversation. We were discussing fashion. One wife had been to the fall fashion shows last spring and thought she remembered seeing my dress.

Penny said, "It's very pretty."

"I like yours," I said. "Did you find it in that little sec—shop off Diagon Alley?"

"Yes." She gave me a grateful smile for not mentioning that it was a designer second-hand shop.

I pointed to my shoes. "I found these there. Ninety percent off the original price."

The women around us began comparing shopping bargains. Conversation was lively when the men joined us. I saw Evan heading my way and decided to take evasive action. "I'll go ask Mrs. Stevens to bring more tea."

Mr. Stevens was in the corridor, directing staff with a tea trolley.

"I was just going to pop down to the kitchen," I said. I didn't want to return to the lounge yet, so I asked, "Where's the closest loo?"

He pointed down the corridor. I walked there swiftly as high heels allowed. When I opened the door to leave, Evan was waiting.

"Hello, Nymphadora."

I pretended confusion. "I'm Lola. We met earlier, remember?"

With the quickness of a striking snake, he removed my bangle and held it up. "I watched you play with this during lunch. Some kind of lie detector, is it? What does it do if someone lies? Grow hot or cold? Is that why you shook it off earlier?"

Spitefully, I said, " _No!_ "

"Ouch!" Evan chuckled. "What did you say your name was again?"

I backed into the loo. "Get in here before somebody sees you.”

"There's the dulcet tone I remember."

When he leaned back against the closed door, I snatched the bracelet. "How did you know it was me? Don't tell me it was the _fois gras_."

"That sealed it, but I already had my suspicions." He smirked. "Scrimgeour isn't the social type, but all of a sudden he's photographed with a mystery beauty no one has ever heard of before—one with an 'L' name."

I crossed my arms. "A lot of women have names that start with 'L'. You shouldn't have thought I was Lola."

"Lora, Lana, Lena..." He paused. "Shall I continue?"

I thought Exes were supposed to forget everything about you. I resolved to stop using those aliases and changed the subject. "Are you a spy for Fudge?"

"No."

The gold remained cool to the touch. I said, "You're going against party politics?"

My incredulity touched a nerve. Evan's lips tightened. "I do what's best for business. Fudge is lobbying for higher taxes to increase law enforcement. Scrimgeour's policies will allow me to continue  _private donations_ while expanding my company. It's as simple as that." He reached out to straighten the cream-coloured hand towels until they hung evenly. I'd forgotten that quirk of his. He had to control everything.

"Does your fiancée know about this plan of yours?"

"No. Does your werewolf know about you and Scrimgeour?"

"About my  _job_ as a bodyguard? Yes."

He held out his hand. I rolled my eyes and gave him the bracelet. "Yes, he knows."

It was my turn to be on the end of a disbelieving stare. "And he approves, after Scrimgeour helped push through that anti-werewolf legislation two years ago?"

The edge of the marble washbasin felt cold against my hip. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

Evan gazed down at the bracelet. "You're speaking the truth." He shook his head. "Maybe Lupin doesn't know."

There was a discreet rap on the door.

"I'll be out in a moment," Evan called. He leaned close to whisper urgently, "I can't afford to have my loyalty to certain parties questioned. Will you promise not to tell anyone you saw me here?" His expression hardened. "If you don't, I'll find a way to make you regret it."

He would, the bastard. "Yes, I promise."

Evan slid the bangle onto my wrist. "Hide in the linen cupboard."

I opened the narrow door and mentally groaned. It might be a luxury in a townhouse like this to have a linen cupboard in a downstairs toilet, but my hiding place wasn't posh. It was a tiny space beneath shelving. I had to curl into a ball to fit.

I heard the lavatory door click open and shut, but I couldn't tell if anyone had entered the loo. There was no flushing, no sounds of water. I didn't want to risk leaving, so I stayed put in the dark, cramped space. To distract myself from the kinks in my back, I imagined Remus's hands, slick with oil, massaging my body.

I gasped when the cupboard door opened. My boss crouched down to ask, "What are you doing in there?"

 

 

 


	17. Moon Shadow

 

What  _was_  I doing hiding in a linen cupboard? "Seemed like a good idea at the time," I said. "Now, I feel stupid."

Scrimgeour made a gruff sound of amusement. "Do you need assistance extricating yourself?"

"No, thanks," I said with forced lightness. "If you back up, I'll get out."

I toppled sideways, reaching to grab the edge of the washbasin to lever myself upright. Sharp twinges made me groan.

"Back pain? Lean forward."

I braced my hands on smooth marble, thinking it ironic that earlier I'd been uneasy when he touched my arm, but now I was in too much discomfort to feel anything except relief over the massage. "Did you learn this during your own physical therapy?"

His fingers paused for a moment and then resumed their circular motion. "You noticed my limp."

Oh, Merlin, was his male pride that touchy? "I noticed you wear glasses too."

In the mirror, I caught his smile at my dry tone. "It took years to attain this level of mobility."

I was curious. "What shape did you leave the other bloke in?"

"They're dead."

_They're…as in plural…whoa…._

The pads of his thumbs worked on the kinks in my lower back. He said, "You never told me why I found you in the cupboard."

"Since you didn't provide a cover story, Evan grew suspicious and confronted me. I didn't want to chat in the corridor, so we talked in here. When you knocked, he told me to hide." I made a face. "Stupidly, I listened."

"You could have used a Disillusionment Charm."

I didn't mind him rubbing my aching back. I did mind having my foolishness rubbed in my face. "In case you missed it, I didn't say hiding was a  _smart_  move."

Silence fell. Inwardly, I cringed. Why had I mouthed off to the boss?

I was about to apologise when he asked, "Is Rosier spying for Fudge?"

"No. My bracelet didn't warm when he said business came first, and you being Minister will help his company expand." I turned around to face him. "He also told me you helped push through anti-werewolf legislation."

"I didn't."

The bracelet remained cool against my skin. "Then why was he convinced otherwise?"

Scrimgeour reached out to adjust one of the hand towels. He was even more of a perfectionist than Evan. He said, "A few years ago, I gave an interview in which I expressed dissatisfaction that werewolves were allowed to hide their condition from employers and landlords. When the bill was introduced, my statements were quoted."

Cold metal revealed he was telling the truth. "Why were you so prejudiced?"

He answered by tugging up his trouser leg.

I had never seen such scars before. They looked recent, like they were still healing. I bent to examine a purplish-red claw mark. Did they go further up his leg? I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Do they hurt?"

"Only when it rains."

I carefully touched the gouged flesh. "You were attacked by a werewolf?"

"A pair of werewolves. Their employer turned them in for Dark magic, ignorant of their true nature…and that one of them was capable of partial transformation during all phases of the moon."

I heard the door handle turn and yanked down the trouser leg at the same time Percy Weasley entered the loo. He drew up short, eyes huge. "Pardon me! I should have knocked. I'll…I'll find another toilet, of course, and…and…."

"Keep your mouth shut," I said warningly.

"I saw nothing. I swear."

"Discretion is a  _rewarding_ quality," said Scrimgeour.

Percy backed out, nodding and bowing like a Hippogriff thrown a ferret.

When we were alone, I stared at the rug, fighting the urge to burst into hysteric laughter.

Scrimgeour asked, "Is your life always so…eventful?"

"Pretty much."

"Ah. Let us rejoin our guests." He waved a hand toward the open door.

I had to know. "Am I fired?"

He smiled a little. "No. Do you wish to quit now that you know my view on werewolves?"

"No, but I think it's wrong to penalise all of them for the actions of a few, and I'd like you to meet my partner to see why I feel that way."

Scrimgeour inclined his head, acknowledging my request while not promising anything.

In the lounge, Evan raised his brows when he saw us enter together. I kept my expression blank, refusing to give him the satisfaction of responding to his unspoken question in any way. What happened after he left was none of his damn business. He should consider himself lucky I didn't _accidentally_ spill my wine in his face.

It wasn't long before the luncheon was over and guests began to leave. Scrimgeour didn't make a grandiose, thank you all for your support speech, yet people got the hint. They took their leave singly and in pairs. Evan was the first to leave, citing business.

When Percy Weasley left, he rattled on about his thankfulness over the honour until Penelope tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. "It was nice to meet you," she told me.

"It was my pleasure meeting someone who shares my love for bargains," I said with a smile.

After the couple left, Scrimgeour asked, "Bargains?"

"Shoes." I looked around. "Where's Q?"

"In the kitchen, I should think."

I held up my arm, shaking the bangle. "I want to thank him for loaning me this and give it back."

"No need. It's yours."

I thought,  _bosses should not give employees jewellery,_ before common sense kicked in. "While I'm working for you, right? OK. Tell him thanks for me."

"I will."

I hesitated to ask a question that was on my mind. He saw me open and close my mouth and smiled. "Yes?"

"While the women were in here, all the men were out on the patio doing what? Pledging their support?"

"Something like that."

The tone of his voice told me I wasn't getting more information. I said, "Guess I'll be going, then."

Scrimgeour escorted me to the fireplace, where I took a pinch of Floo powder from an ebony box. As I was stepping toward the flames, he said, "About your partner. We've already met."

 

 

 

I stumbled onto the hearth in my flat, trying to get my mind around what I'd just heard.

Remus rose from the sofa. "Nymphadora, what's wrong?

The impending full moon that put shadows under his eyes also added a predatory intensity to his amber gaze. I looked away, not wanting him to read my face. I wanted to ask why he never told me had met Scrimgeour, but didn't want to seem accusing. I turned toward the bedroom. "I need to change."

He followed me. I felt him watching me morph. The tug of awareness caused my pulse to race.

"Let me get the zipper," he said, stepping behind me. The dress fell to my waist. I shivered when Remus leaned close and audibly inhaled. "Scrimgeour put his hands on you."

My heart jolted. I hadn't heard that dangerous edge in his voice for quite some time. "Not in the way you're implying. I had a twinge in my back."

He dropped to his knees. I felt his hair brush my skin as he leaned forward to drink in my scent. He pulled on the dress. Fabric pooled at my feet. Remus breathed in deeply once more. I gasped when his lips pressed against the skin above the waistband of my panties.

"How did you get that twinge?" He began to rub my back.

It was an effort to produce a coherent reply, but I would have done anything to ensure he kept touching me and feathering kisses across my skin. I told him about my conversation with Evan and Scrimgeour.

He stood, fingers gripping my hips. "You promised Rosier not to tell anyone he was there?"

The growl in his voice made my knees weak. I leaned back against him, my head lolling to the side. "You're not just anyone. You're my love, my mate. I've told Evan I don't keep secrets from you. If he forgot, that was his oversight."

Remus slid his hands up to my shoulders. "When a wolf is trying to avoid aggression, when he or she wants to end conflict, they expose their most vulnerable area—the throat." His voice was husky. "Are you signalling your submission?"

My muscles trembled. "Yes."

He placed an open-mouthed kiss on the curve of my neck. The moist heat triggered a melting sensation. I closed my eyes.

Gently, teasingly, his teeth raked across my skin. "I am not a wolf," Remus whispered. "I'm not programmed to stop my…aggression…when given a submission signal."

I turned to kiss him hungrily. "Don't stop."

Something hot and irresistible flared in his eyes. Remus parted my lips, devouring me in a way I praised every star didn't stop.

Later, as I watched him dress, I said, "Scrimgeour told me right before I left that he'd met you before."

Remus froze for an instant before he resumed buttoning his shirt. "We weren't formally introduced. He came in the room where I was being interrogated about Sirius's whereabouts to let the Aurors know they didn't have to bother anymore. Sirius Black had been captured."

His voice was flat. I asked, "What are you leaving out?"

He looked at me with an expression that was hard to decipher. "When I insisted my friend was innocent, Scrimgeour told me he didn't care." Remus bent to trail his fingertips down my face. "That's the kind of man you're working for, Nymphadora."

I was speechless.

Remus smiled a little. "I'm aware that Aurors and law enforcement hear claims of innocence every day, but I've never forgotten the way he said it." He kissed my cheek. "That isn't what I want to talk about."

"You're not going to tell me to stay away tonight, are you?"

He sat on the edge of the bed, taking my hands in his. "Since you made the blood sacrifice once for all time, I would be cutting off my snout to spite my face not to take advantage of it." His tiny smile faded. "However, I don't want you to join me until after the change."

I didn't ask why not. Although the muzzle and shackles released him from their bonds with the sunrise, he had to put them on before the moon became full. I wouldn't want him to see me that way either. I tried to joke, "I can always chat with Kreacher while I wait."

His chuckle sounded tired. I felt a guilty pleasure that I had worn him out.

Remus said, "Has anyone  _ever_ had a chat with him, I wonder?"

"Hermione tried. He insulted her."

"Why am I not surprised?"

I grinned. "Because he's a nasty piece of work?"

"We must pity him." He kissed me. "And I must go."

"I'll see you later when you're furry."

He chuckled again, leaving me to sigh and hug his pillow.

 

 

 

When I knocked on the door of Grimmauld Place, Kreacher took his time answering the door. I gazed up at the moon in the sky and sang  _That's Amore._

"What is a pizza pie?" the elf asked from the shadowed entry.

I stepped forward. "You know. Pizza. We had it when the Weasleys were here. Round crust loaded with cheese and toppings."

The wizened little face creased further in disdain. "I is never eating any Muggle pizza!"

I shrugged. "Suit yourself, but Muggles didn't invent pizza. Wizards did." I headed for the stairs.

"Really?"

No, not really. Wizards hadn't invented everything good in the world, regardless of pure-blood propaganda. "Cross my heart," I said, crossing my fingers.

I opened the attic door, pleasantly surprised to find candles lighting the gloom.

"Woof!"

I knelt to ruffle Snuffles’s fur. "You smell a lot better than you did in my childhood. Must be Cami's shampoo."

He licked my cheek.

I wiped it off. "Ick. Doggy slobber."

The big, black dog made grumbling noises.

I kissed the top of his head. "I didn't say I didn't appreciate the gesture."

His tail wagged.

I ran a hand down his back. "How is our furry friend tonight?"

He growled. I took that to mean the wolf was in a bad mood. I said, "I'll go cheer him up."

Snuffles made more grumbling noises.

I ignored him and strode toward the containment circle. The wolf lay with his face to the wall, literally turning his back on everything. He lifted his head to glance back over his shoulder when I approached.

"Did you miss me?" I said softly, dropping to crawl forward on my hands and knees. "I missed you. I've wondered what tonight would be like—if it would be like last time."

The wolf made no effort to meet me. If I wanted to be with him, I would have to enter the circle to gaze into his eyes.

"Woof!"

I felt a yank on the hem of my denims. My cousin's protective streak was flaring up again. I said, "Don't worry. I'll be fine," and crawled over the white line without disturbing the chalk.

The moment I crossed into the circle, I felt a kind of static in the air, a charge of magical energy. All of a sudden, I could hear a mouse scurry between trunks at the other end of the attic. I smelled the dust in the air, vanilla-scented dog fur, and the musky, earthy scent of the wolf's pelage.

My vision changed as well. What had previously seemed dark was light. I edged closer to the animal who watched me with eyes that drew me out of myself, into an alternate reality.

 

_In a forest clearing, a gust of wind swirled a flurry of leaves into the air. I batted at one with a paw. It made a crunchy, crackling sound._

_A pile of brown leaves caught my eye. They would be fun to roll in. I padded over. A shape barrelled out of the forest, propelling me down upon the leaves. My mate had ambushed me!_

_His smiling face and wagging tail betrayed how pleased he was to surprise me. He rolled in the leaves like a pup, although the ruffs of hair framing his face were long and distinctly adult. I wondered how long it had been since he had played this game. He had not been part of a pack for a long time._

_I waited for my chance and nipped the sensitive skin behind his knee. He yipped in startled delight. It was my turn to smile._

_He gave a short bark. Playtime was over. I fell into line behind him._

_The distance to the new den my mate had chosen was not far from the forest. I did not need the drink we stopped for, but I lapped it anyway, swiping at a fish that darted by._

_My mate walked beside me from the water to the cave, his body brushing my fur as we matched our gait. I let my tail flop over his back. A moment later, his tail flopped over mine._

_When we reached a tumble of rocks on the hillside, he moved ahead to lead the way. In his wake, I scrambled over a small boulder at the side of the pile. Concealed by the larger stones was a narrow entrance to a cave. I walked through the vertical slit into the chamber…and was promptly leapt upon._

_I expected him to lay his legs across my neck, playfully flirting. Instead, he mounted me from behind. Instinctively, I turned my head to snap my jaws at him. He wasn't doing anything except covering my back, but this wasn't mating season._

_My mate sprang away to curl up in a corner of the cave. I walked over to lie beside him. He turned his face away. I whimpered. He glanced back at me. I rubbed his nose with mine in the way he liked. He grabbed my snout the way I liked. Soon we were licking and nibbling each other's coats._

_I fell asleep while he rubbed the underside of his chin against the top of my head._

 

 

I awoke to the warmth of Remus's body moulded to my back and his chin resting against the top of my head. When I opened my eyes, I saw a dog's jaws stretching in a yawn. Sirius had slept across the circle from us. "Good morning," I said sleepily.

He transformed into a man. "What's so good about it?"

I blinked. "Did somebody wake up on the wrong side of the attic?"

"Yeah. You."

I sat up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Remus stirred. "Yes, Padfoot. What are you trying to say?"

Sirius raked back his hair. "Did either of you happen to notice the way you were sleeping?" He looked at his old friend. "You snuggled up to her while you were a wolf, mate."

I said, "So? When I'm in the circle, it's like I become a wolf. Why shouldn't he sleep next to me?"

"You whimpered."

I could feel a blush heating my face. "I wasn't whimpering because I was scared."

"I'm well aware of that."

"I can't bite and can barely move when I'm a wolf," said Remus. "How could I harm her?"

Sirius began to look uncomfortable. "I didn't say you'd harm her."

Temper sharpened my tongue. "I think he means another four letter word beginning with  _h._ "

My cousin jumped to his feet. "Hell, I only meant I don't like hearing—"

I cut him off. "If you can't take the sounds, stay out of the attic."

"Fine. I will." He stalked out.

I wanted to jinx him for being such a prat. I turned to Remus. "Don't let him upset you. Sirius doesn't understand."

"What doesn't he understand, Nymphadora?"

Oh gods, I couldn't take a repeat of last month. I paused to find the right words. "He doesn't understand that during the full moon, we're connected in spirit, not body," I said. "I can love the wolf, but I can't  _love_ the wolf."

I almost cried with relief when he smiled.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know a wolf's pelage is made up of two coats? A top layer of guard hair repels rain and, you guessed it, guards the downy underfur. It's so efficient; snow doesn't even melt on a wolf's coat. Why'd I bring that up? In case someone wondered. :D His limp in HBP, and the thought that wouldn't it be interesting if it was because of a werewolf inspired the background for Scrimgeour. A couple of lines Tonks uses at the end were adapted from the old saying, “If you can't take the heat, stay out of the kitchen,” and a memorable line from The Truth about Cats and Dogs when the pet psychologist tells a caller, “We can love our pets, we just can't LOVE our pets” inspired Tonks’s explanation about the wolf.


	18. Shadow Men

 

Remus looked exhausted, the way he always did after a change. I helped him up and wrapped my arms around his body in a tight hug. "You need to be in bed. I'll bring you breakfast, or anything you want."

"Thank you. Tea's all I can stomach this morning."

Wolfsbane Potion had done more than allow Remus to keep his mental faculties during the change. It also lessened the toll on his system afterwards.

I kissed him softly. "What kind of tea would you like?"

"Chai, if there's any left."

The Indian spices added to tea boosted the immune system. Ambika Patil added fennel seeds to the blend she made for Remus to settle his stomach. I nodded and hurried downstairs.

Sirius was in the kitchen, standing beside the coffeepot. He had dark circles beneath his eyes and mug in his hand. "You want to take this up to him?"

"I'd love the coffee," I said, "but Remus wants tea."

He placed the mug on a counter with a thud. "Of course he does."

I assembled the ingredients for tea. "What does that mean?"

Sirius watched me heat water and milk in a pot. "Exactly what I said."

I added the Chai Masala spices and tea leaves. "I know he wants tea because I asked."

"He used to like coffee."

I stirred the tea, waiting for it to come to a boil. "Tastes change."

"Do they?"

My Black temper flared at his sarcastic tone. "Yes, unless you never asked back then, either." I strained the tea while pouring it into a mug.

"So...it finally comes out," he said. "Like Molly and Hermione, you think I'm selfish, that I'm only concerned with how things affect me personally." I opened my mouth to speak. He cut me off. "Don't tell me they haven't said it. I've excellent hearing, even out of Animagus form."

I placed a Warming Charm on the mug and turned to face him. "If they said that, you provoked it, the same way you've been provoking me."

He chuckled mirthlessly. "All my fault, is it? You're a girl after Mother's heart, if she had a heart."

"Stop doing that!"

"Doing what?"

I pressed his shoulder with the tips of my fingers. "Pushing me away."

Sirius held his hands up. "You're the one pushing me."

I pushed him again. "Isn't that what you want?"

"You're barmy."

I gave him another light shove. "Am I? You're the one who pushes people away, and when that doesn't work, you provoke them into pushing you." I put my hands on my hips. "It isn't going to work with me, so you may as well stop trying."

Sirius shook his head. "I think blood magic's affected your brain."

"I think you know it's true and you don't want to admit it."

"The way you don't want to admit you're in over your head on full moons?"

I blinked. "We're not talking about that."

"Why not? You're the one who brought up the h-word in the attic."

"I brought that up to show how ridiculous it was. It won't happen."

" _Really?_  Ever hear dogs hump legs because they can't reach higher? You might find out it applies to wolves too."

My cheeks felt hot. I wanted to slap him. I said, "He can be immobilised, but it shouldn't be necessary. Remus's human mind influences the wolf. He wouldn't let him do that. We're just courting."

Sirius laughed in my face. "Where do you think courtship leads?"

"Nowhere! We're not  _real_ wolves." I tried to joke, "There won't ever be any werepups running around."

"No? And here I was thinking I'd get to mind the multicoloured little rascals." His lips turned down. "Be useful for a change."

"You  _are_ useful!"

When I placed my hand on his arm, Sirius pulled away. "Right. When Dumbledore's busy, I get to make up the duty roster. What a contribution. Almost as satisfying as house cleaning." He strode over to the coolant cupboard. "I'll be up with Buckbeak if I'm needed for any more  _useful_ tasks."

I watched him tuck a beer bottle under his arm and cradle several more. "Sirius . . . ."

"No!" he said firmly. "No more seriousness." He opened a bottle against the table edge and took a drink. He lifted it in the air. " _Bene mihi; bene vobis, bene ami'cæ nostræ._ Remus taught me that toast when I wanted to be a gentleman and not kiss and tell. Means 'here's to myself, here's to you, and here's to I shan't say who.'"

"Sirius, don't be this way."

"Don't be Sirius? Sorry, cousin. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I'd be someone else if I could, but like so much in life, I don't get a say. I only get to live with it, the best I can."

He sang on his way up the stairs, "And there with good fellows, we'll learn to entwine, the Myrtle of Venus with Bacchus' Vine."

The tune sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. With a sigh, I found a pot of honey and sweetened the tea.

 

 

Remus was sitting at the desk when I entered his room. The collar of his robe was damp. I gave him the cup of chai and used a spell to dry his hair. "Did a shower make you feel better?"

"No."

I saw the battered journal on the desktop. "Were you inspired to write another limerick?" I said teasingly, "How about this? My love is a wolf, Nymphadora, with fur that is soft as an-gora."

There was a smile in his eyes. "I don't think that quite fits the pattern."

I fluttered my eyelashes. "Are you accusing me of playing fast and loose with syllables, Professor?"

"Yes."

I grinned. "I'd play fast and loose with you, but I don't have the time."

Remus's smile was half-hidden behind the rim of his mug. He sipped the tea before asking, "You have no qualms about becoming a wolf, do you?"

"No." I took his face in my hands. "You're my mate. I want to be there for you in any way I can." I tasted the spices on his lips. "Mmm—now I really wish I could take a sickie." Ready to leave, I said, "There's something I need to tell you. Sirius is up in Buckbeak's room. We had a chat, and he isn't very happy."

"About what happened last night?"

"About life in general." I hunched a shoulder. "I tried to tell him things would be OK and he was useful to the Order, but I ended up driving him to drink."

Remus set down his tea to enfold me in his arms. "Only Sirius is responsible for the choices he makes."

"Yeah." Hard as it was, I backed out of his embrace after a final kiss goodbye. 

 

 

I stopped at my flat for a quick shower and change before heading to work. On the way to my cubicle, I saw Julia and Tom in hers, discussing a case. "Hello, you two." I sniffed the air. "New perfume, Jul? I like it."

"Thanks." Julia smiled, and then shook her head. "Wait a minute. You're talking to me without sarcasm? I may have heart failure."

"If you die, can I have your shirt from the 'Twisted Sisters' tour?"

Tom chuckled when his wife said, "All right, but it's not in mint condition anymore."

I staggered back, theatrically clasping both hands to my chest. "You swore never to wear it!"

Julia pointed to Tom. "Blame him. He wanted to see me dance in it."

I burst out laughing. "Did he take a picture?"

"A picture of what?"

My Auror partner had walked up behind me. "Nothing, Jerry. Have we been summoned?"

"Yes."

I made a face. "Duty calls, then."

My friends exchanged a look.

"How exactly did you two pull this duty?" Tom asked.

Jerry shrugged. "We've worked with Crantz and Stern before. They asked for us, I guess."

"I'm going to tell that to anyone who makes a crack." Julia nodded decisively.

I felt a chill run down my spine. "What are you saying? There's a rumour going around?"

She looked at Tom.

He said, "People notice when Scrimgeour calls a junior Auror into his office on more than one occasion."

"It was twice."  _That anyone can prove._ "He was interested in my morphing, not my body."

Julia said, "Hey, we're on your side. Don't get defensive."

"If I find out who's whispering about me, I'll go on the offensive." I felt like throwing something. Instead of grabbing the paperweight off her desk, I made myself smile. "Remember the Power of Three Tracing Spell?"

Jerry shook his head. The other two grinned.

A year ago, a workmate reported that Tom and Julia were snogging on duty. It was the truth, but that wasn't the point—loyalty was.

I said, "Remember Harriet's purple pustules?"

"That was you three?" Jerry frowned. "That wasn't very nice. She cried buckets. I heard her."

"They were only temporary." Irritated with his Wizard Scout mentality, I told Tom and Julia I’d see them later and stomped off.

Jerry's long strides soon caught up to mine. "Are you mad at me for being honest?"

I glanced sideways. "I'm touchy this morning. I'll get over it." He didn't answer, but I felt him looking at me. When we turned the corner of a less claustrophobia-inducing pathway, I snapped, "What?"

"You've got a gift others don't, but even if you didn't, you're the best Auror I know, so I wasn't surprised they chose us over everyone else."

"Gods, that's touching," said a muffled voice behind me. Gil Stern grinned around a mouthful of pastry.

Next to him, Ron Crantz said, "Isn't it?" before scowling with exaggerated displeasure at his partner. "When's the last you complimented me like that? I bet he buys her lunch, too. You never do that for me."

"You've never been a fit bird, either." Stern gestured at the other man's waistline with his coffee mug. "Never been fit, period."

"More to love," Crantz said with a smirk. He elbowed his middle-aged partner's substantial gut. "Bet you wish you'd thought of that line."

"You didn't make that up. People have said it for ages!"

"I'm the one who said it  _today!"_

"True, very true," said Stern.

The two made me want to laugh and slam their heads together at the same time. "I'll buy you both lunches if you'll stop nattering."

There was instant silence.

Crantz led the way into the shrine to disorganisation masquerading as an office. I admired the stack of office memos leaning in a corner like a miniature Tower of Pisa before taking a seat. Stern perched on the edge of the desk. "Bad news, boy and girl. Our investigation hasn't shown progress worthy of  _meriting further squandering of manpower_. Tomorrow we'll be on another case, and you'll be deprived of learning from the best."

"We've interviewed dozens of corroborative witnesses!" Jerry said. "They all back up the complainant's story!"

Crantz shifted in his chair. "They need direct evidence to bring charges."

I was incredulous. "It's hard to prove a Dark wizard is causing unnatural illness to an enemy while the victim's still  _alive!"_

Stern nodded approvingly. "That's what I said when I asked for a search warrant to be granted on the accretion of circumstantial but damaging evidence."

Jerry leaned forward in eagerness. "You got the warrant?"

"Said his request rivalled Shakespeare in eloquence." Crantz laughed.

Stern bowed.

I said, "Impressive, but do you have any idea what to look for?"

The veteran Aurors traded an amused glance.

"That's where the betting comes in," said Stern. "Five Galleons I find the proof."

Crantz snorted. "Down at the pub, you thought the hag who offered to buy a drink was a bloke. You may as well pay up now."

"She had a moustache!"

Jerry said, "Wagering seems un-professional."

Stern was off the desk and in the other man's face. "What did you say?"

"I wasn't accusing you, sir, only making an observation."

Crantz lumbered around the desk to clap his partner on the shoulder. "See there? The kid didn't mean any disrespect." He looked meaningfully at Jerry. "Did you, Connelly?"

"No, sir, absolutely not, sir. I value the opportunity to work with experienced Aurors."

Stern said, " _Value,_ eh?"

I coughed. "What did you eat this morning, Stern? Kippers?"

He said gruffly, "I brushed and used a Toothflossing Stringmint."

"Buy brushing/flossing mints," I said. "They give you better breath."

"You care so much, you buy me some." Stern walked out.

"Don't mind Gil. He's touchy after that business with Auror Affairs," muttered Crantz.

Jerry and I swapped _Auror Affairs?_ looks before following our superiors. Perhaps it was a good thing we were being reassigned tomorrow.

 

 

The target of our investigation was home when we knocked on the door of his flat. Peter Runcorn, fifty-six, was a stoop-shouldered accountant who looked incapable of causing anyone harm, even a co-worker who was edging him out of a promotion. He shivered inside a heavy robe, watery eyes and constant sniffles signalling his cold.

Crantz shouldered Mr. Runcorn out of the way while Stern read off the warrant.

"Tonks, Connelly, get in here!"

We walked into the modest home to find our supervisor looking around in disgust. I wasn't impressed with the plaid three piece suite either, but it was the air that caused my nose to wrinkle. It smelled faintly of rotten eggs. Crantz jerked his head toward another door. "Search the bedroom, and don't forget the Sealant Spells."

"Yes, Dad," I muttered, performing the spell.

Jerry heard me. "He's just doing his job."

I entered the narrow bedroom and opened the curtains to let in light. "Black humour and sarcasm are expected of Aurors. It's in the manual. Feel free to check."

Jerry used his wand to levitate the single mattress. "I'll take your word for it."

I cast spells and then double-checked by hand to ensure there were no objects hidden in the mattress or concealed in the platform beneath the bed. Jerry lowered the mattress and bent to check the contents of the drawers fitted into the platform.

"Pull them out," I said.

"Yes, Mum."

I snickered.

In the doorway, Runcorn cleared his throat. "May I wait in bed while you invade my privacy?"

I smiled. "Sure." Was he really that sick, or did he have an ulterior motive? I told Jerry, "Why don't you check out the wardrobe while I search the bookcase?" After a few preliminary spells turned up no hidden objects or wards placed on any of the tomes, I crouched down to read the titles.

"You won't find anything."

Oh, goody, a chatty suspect. They were so much more helpful than the ones who demanded a solicitor. I removed a book from a middle shelf. " _Au contraire_. Haven't you heard 'you are what you read?' I'm finding out loads about you."

Mr. Runcorn had quite an interest in the Muggle folk magic called  _Hoodoo._ There were a dozen texts on the subject, but no books on Africa, itself. His interest was centred on the magical-religious practice.

He rattled off a string of French. I continued to flip through pages. "Sorry, I only speak Frenglish."

Words in bold caught my eye: _Graveyard Dirt_. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I had encountered graveyard dirt before, seen it fall off zombies along with bits of decomposing flesh.

"I said I have a book on Crumpled-horn Snorkacks, but that doesn't make me one."

I scanned the page detailing how to use graveyard dirt in spell-work. "True," I said absently. A practitioner could protect his house from evil spirits; force someone to fall in love with them…or hurt them. It was interesting, the different kinds of dirt collected. To cause enemies to succumb to unnatural illness, the dirt from the grave of someone who had died violently, or before their time, was used to evoke a spirit eager for revenge on the living.

"Muggle magical practices are my hobby. I find them amusing. They can't be used to harm anyone. For you to read that is a waste of time."

"Is it?" I read that sulphur powder was one of the ingredients mixed into the graveyard dirt. I hid my excitement as I stood. "Maybe you're right." I took a step toward the man on the bed. "You don't look so good. Have you had breakfast? Feed a cold is what my Gran always says."

"I had toast and porridge," Runcorn's tone betrayed uneasiness over my cheerful questions.

"Nothing else?"

"Nothing. Why do you care?"

"I'm a public servant, and you're part of that public," I said with a straight face. "What did you make for dinner last night?"

"Beans on toast. I wasn't hungry, and why do you keep asking what I've eaten?" He sat up and threw off the covers.

"You have to eat right to stay healthy," I said, matter-of-fact. "If you haven't got your health, then you haven't got anything." I smiled in a way that made his eyes widen before asking Jerry, "Find anything?"

"No." His expression asked 'what are you  _doing?'_

I winked. "All in good time, Watson."

Runcorn trailed us into the lounge. "You didn't return my property."

It looked like Cranz and Stern had ripped apart sofa cushions with their bare hands when spells didn't reveal anything. Stern's cheeks were flushed. "What's he moaning about?"

I lifted the book on Hoodoo. "My evidence that he's been using Dark magic."

Crantz wiped beads of perspiration off his forehead with a handkerchief. "How's that evidence?"

"Elements of Muggle 'magic' in this book were used to cast Dark spells."

"Prove it," Runcorn said defiantly.

Jerry had his wand out, pointed at the suspect. "I'll make sure he doesn't go anywhere while you do."

I walked over to a side table and lifted a Chinese jar. "Graveyard dirt mixed with sulphur powder among other nasty things is sprinkled into an enemy's shoe or onto the floor they walk on to lead the victim to the graveyard, so to speak." I opened the lid. The jar was empty.

I set it down and drew in a deep breath. "When I entered the flat, I smelled rotten eggs. Runcorn told me he hasn't eaten eggs in the last day, so the smell is coming from sulphur powder he used to curse graveyard dirt."

My eyes went to a carved box on the mantel. I pointed.

"That's a sealed funeral urn holding the remains of my Muggle grandmother!" Runcorn yelled.

Crantz said, "Let's see." He took the box down and sniffed. "I don't smell anything."

Great…Stern couldn't see and Crantz couldn't smell. I walked over. "Open it up. You'll see  _and_ smell."

When he opened the urn, the odour of sulphur spilled into the lounge.

"A bit like rotten eggs, all right," said Stern. He waved his wand. Runcorn stood bound in wizard restraints.

"If anything happens to Keenan, you can't prove I was responsible!"

There was a gloating edge to the man's voice. My gaze flew to Jerry. He said, "How does that powder work? Does the Dark wizard have to be there for graveyard dirt to curse the victim?"

"No," I said, feeling like an idiot. Runcorn had a  _cold_. A common illness easily treated with a Pepper-Up Potion. He had stayed home to give himself an alibi. "Keenan has to get to St. Mungo's for treatment before it's too late!"

Jerry Apparated immediately. Crantz sent his Patronus trotting through the wall toward the Ministry. "Has your Patronus always been a goat?" I asked to keep from doing something rash, like striking Runcorn across the face with his Hoodoo book. I could get away with it. Crantz and Stern would say he'd been resisting arrest. Auror Affairs had probably disciplined Stern for using undue force.

Stern began to snigger. "It used to be a rabbit, but it changed when he couldn't keep up the pace anymore."

Crantz guffawed. "I may not be as good as I once was, but ladies tell me I'm as good  _once_  as I ever was."

Runcorn looked disgusted by the coarse humour, but it made me smile. I stared out a window until a unit arrived to process the evidence.

Jerry arrived back; his wide smiling declaring the victim would be all right. Stern was so pleased he offered to let us take Runcorn in for booking.

I said, "No, you're the leads. Why don't we go grab a table? We'll have lunch anywhere you like."

I wasn't surprised when they chose the Iron Shackle. The two were eager to brag to every Auror who would listen how their team cracked the case in a single morning. We were halfway finished with our pub lunch when Crantz saluted me with his beer. "That was quick thinking, pretending you smelled that sulphur. Really shook Runcorn up. He was asking to cut a deal when we left."

"Was he?"

Stern tapped his mug against his partner's glass. "Bloody well right, he was. You scared the hell of him with your  _eerie powers."_

"He's been reading too many books on superstitions," I said.

Jerry lifted his pumpkin juice. "He should've read Sherlock Holmes."

I tapped my Butterbeer bottle to their mugs. "Cheers."

On the walk back to the Auror Offices, Jerry said, "If you hadn't called me 'Watson,' I would've thought you smelled the sulphur powder too. That was brilliant acting."

I hadn't been acting. I had smelled rotten eggs. How was that possible? Was the attenuated sense of smell the result of my blood bond with a werewolf? Mind whirling with questions I didn't have answers for, I acted pleased, smiling as I said, "Thanks."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The toast Remus taught his friends was a line from Persius, and the chorus Sirius sang was from The Anacreontic Song, (the first line is 'To Anancreon' a Greek poet who wrote songs about wine and women) which was used as a sobriety test. If you were sober enough to sing a stanza on key, you could have another round! Since I'm a Yank, I found it very amusing that Francis Scott Key wrote what would later be re-titled The Star-Spangled Banner to the popular tune.
> 
> The graveyard dirt Tonks remembered was from ch 11 of A Wolf in the Moonlight. I had fun going down memory lane, as well as searching for just the right magic that used sulphur powder, to demonstrate her magically enhanced sense of smell. For the Princess Bride fans, yes, Tonks quoted Count Rugen, and for any Toby Keith fans, I did indeed have Crantz spout words from one of his songs.


	19. Dark Shadow

 

 

 

When I was an angsty teenager, Mum used to say, “Focus on the worries of others, and your own will seem small by comparison.” I’d never appreciated the advice at the time. Back then, I morbidly enjoyedobsessing about the problems in my life. Now, I latched onto her advice with gratitude.

I looked at Jerry. He seemed content to walk back to the Ministry in silence. Was he thinking about his girlfriend? I asked, "How's Meg?"

"Fine, I guess."

He  _guessed_? I asked, "Do you think she'd like to come over for dinner at my place and meet Remus?"

"I don't know."

His tone implied excuses would follow. I wasn't going to allow that. "C'mon, I won't cook. I'll order Chinese and we'll eat up on the roof." I moved closer to bump his shoulder. "I'll dig out some paper lanterns to float around the garden. It'll be fun. What d'you say?"

"She's really busy with school."

We were nearing the Ministry. I put a hand on his forearm. "Too busy to eat?"

He wasn't looking me in the eye. "Yeah, between her job and university, she's so busy I haven't even talked to her since…."

"Since when?"

He shrugged off my hand. "It doesn't matter."

I grabbed his upper arm. "It matters. Since  _when?"_

"Since the night we watched that film.'"

My mouth fell open. " _What?"_

Jerry ran a hand over his short brown hair. He seemed agitated, even before he said, "This isn't the time to talk about it, OK?"

"No. It isn't OK, and we're going to talk about this right—" I broke off when I saw an Auror walking toward us. Harriet the Spy would love to spread the rumour that Jerry and I were fighting. The way my luck was going, by the end of the day the office grapevine would say I was cheating on my werewolf boyfriend with both my Auror partner and my boss!

I let go of Jerry's arm and stepped back. "Hello, Harriet."

"Hello." Her beady eyes darted from me to Jerry. "Everything…all right?"

"Sure. We were just discussing a case." My fake smile was hard to maintain when I got a whiff of her overpowering scent. I seized on the excuse to change the subject. "Are you wearing a new perfume?" It reminded me of something that lingered at the back of my mind, a forgotten memory.

"I tried a couple of scents at the perfumery in Diagon Alley on my lunch break." She lifted a wrist. "Is this the one you like?" Harriet thrust the other arm at me. "Or this one?"

The food in my stomach didn't set so well anymore. "Both are nice," I said faintly. I prayed for her to leave. She had sprayed on a lot more than two perfumes. The odour was the equivalent of being stuck in an overheated Senior Centre with grannies who all used different scents for soap, bath powder, and perfume in their daily toilette!

My eyes were starting to water. Thankfully, Harriet smiled and continued on her way. I wrapped my arms around my middle and gulped breaths of fresh air.

"Are you sick?"

I shook my head. "No. She just reminded me of a time when I was little and thought if I put all the perfumes and powders on my mum's dresser on a stray dog, he'd smell so pretty that she'd  _have_ to let me keep him." Less queasy now, I laughed at the expression on Jerry's face. "Mum looked like that, too, before she hosed off both me and the dog."

"I didn't like the way the perfumes clashed either," Jerry said, "but it didn't make me sick. Are you pregnant?" He eyed my stomach as if it would be possible to tell by staring.

"Of course not!" I punched him in the arm. "Merlin, Arthur, and Guinevere, Connelly." I released a deep breath. I wasn't the only one who could steer someone to another topic of conversation. "You're not dating Meg anymore, are you?"

"No."

"Aw, crap. It was because of me, wasn't it?"

He gave me a funny look. "What do you mean?"

"I ruined your relationship." I threw out my arms. "I'm a jinx. Every girl I try to set you up with turns out to be mental."

"Meg isn't mental."

"So what was it this time? Does she belong to a religious cult?"

"She doesn't believe in magic."

I remembered Meg saying, " _I don't mind the adventure, but why do these kinds of films always have to have magic?"_ I said, "Maybe she meant—“

"She meant all kinds. After you left, I asked," Jerry said. "Meg told me she refuses to believe in anything that can't be seen or touched."

"You could make arrangements to bring her to the Ministry. We could show her magic, and if she still refused to believe, an Obliviator would erase the memory."

"No," he said quietly but firmly. "She's not the one for me."

"I'm sorry." I gave his shoulder a light push. "Why didn't you say something?"

"You didn't ask."

Aw, bollocks, he was right. I hadn't asked. I’d assumed because he seemed cheerful as always that he and Meg were doing fine. Some friend I was.

Jerry blanched when he saw the look on my face. The brown freckles standing out against pale skin made him look younger. I could imagine him in his Wizard Scout uniform, selling evergreen wreaths at Christmas, raising money for charity. I felt even more like shit. Again, I said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. I'm a bloke. If you had asked, I would have told you. I'm not broken-hearted or anything."

"You're not?"

He looked like he was trying not to smile. "No."

I pretended to glare. "Then I felt guilty for nothing?"

Jerry ducked his head. "Well, if you don't set me up anymore, it won't be for nothing." He grinned boyishly. "You do seem to be a jinx."

I laughed. "What can I say? I'm the Grim Reaper of matchmaking."

"You're not that bad. Almost...but not that bad."

I started walking. "Thanks a lot. Just for that, the next case we get with an old josser accusing his neighbour of being a Dark wizard,  _you_ have to do the interview."

He caught up with me. "Fine with me. I like old people. They have a lot of valuable life experiences to share, if you take the time to listen."

I listened to him expound upon the subject as we returned to the Auror Offices. Jerry was such a choirboy, as Gran would say. I halted outside the entrance. That gave me an idea. "How about we drop by and have tea with my Gran next week?"

"Sure. She makes the best biscuits."

I hid a satisfied smile. My grandmother also knew several young women from her parish who volunteered at the Senior Centre. I'd let  _her_ pick out one to meet Jerry—somebody nice who believed in things unseen, like magic.

Once through the double doors, it seemed as if every Auror working in his or her cubicle came out to ask about the Hoodoo case. I muttered that I had paperwork to do and left my partner to share the details.

In my shoebox office, I saw a violet-coloured paper aeroplane resting on the desk. It was an inter-departmental memo. "Let's see what joy Gulch is spreading today," I muttered, unfolding the parchment.

**Ability, not seniority, is the criteria for Auror promotion. Opportunities for advancement are based on merit, so every Auror is encouraged to strive for excellence.**

I pinned it to the dartboard on the cubicle wall. Every dart I hurled had a question attached.

_Thud…_

Was this memo generated by Scrimgeour?

_Thud…_

Was this an attempt to stop the rumour going around?

_Thwack…_

The last dart went wide of the target. I ripped it out of the flimsy wall and stuck it dead centre with the others, wondering if the decree from on high would end gossip or fuel the flames.

Answers to the first two questions would be easy enough to get. I unpinned the memo and grabbed a quill off my desk to write at the bottom.

_Was this your idea? Did you generate this in response to office rumour? L_

I carefully refolded the aeroplane, so the Ministry of Magic embossed along the wings looked pristine and official. A flick of my wand sent it flying to its recipient.

The clatter of trolley wheels brought my attention to the outer corridor. Martin Canterbury was delivering the afternoon post. Owls were too messy to be allowed in the lifts, so the Owl Post Office made a general delivery to the central Ministry Postroom, where it was sorted and then dispersed to the various Offices.

While the trolley rolled along a metre ahead, the Auror Headquarters clerk distributed the post. More specifically, he tossed letters and packets carelessly in the general direction of people's desks. No one ever complained about finding post on the floor. For a man who called himself depressingly average and dull, Martin had a look about him that made workmates leery. Not me, though. I always stopped to chat with him. We had something in common. Until recently, I didn't have much job satisfaction either.

"Hello, Martin." I noticed he seemed almost cheerful today.

He held out a letter.

I took it, asking, "Did you cut your hair?

"I had my hair cut. I didn't cut it myself." He was almost smiling as he said it.

Curious about the upswing in his mood, I said, "Looks sharp. Got a hot date?"

"With who?"

How was I supposed to know? Did he think I listened to inter-office gossip overheard in lavatories, lifts, or at office functions? I was an Auror, not some Hogwarts schoolgirl riveted by the latest news of who liked whom. "How about Scrimgeour's personal assistant? Lucy Tinsley? I heard she won't go out to lunch if that means she'll miss the post being delivered."

He looked at me unblinkingly. "You're good. You're very good."

That sounded more like an implied threat than a compliment. I said, "Thanks. If you did have a date with Lucy, I'd never tell. I respect privacy."

He smiled and continued delivering the post.

I back-pedalled into my cubicle, slightly miffed. I said I respected privacy, not that he should keep his social life private! Who would I possibly tell, anyway, besides Jerry, Julia, Tom and maybe Remus?

I plonked myself down in a chair and looked at the letter. The handwriting on the envelope was distinctive. It was from Sirius. I sniggered at the thought of the Wizarding world's Most Wanted sending a note to Auror Headquarters. I broke the unembellished seal of black wax and removed the parchment.

**If you really want to cheer me, pick up Indian food on your way home. I haven't had a samosa or chicken tandoori since Mrs. Patil used to feed Snuffles. Curry would be brilliant too. Chicken, lamb, any kind you like.**

_What? Nothing for afters?_

Sarcastic thoughts aside, I was glad for the chance to make things up with Sirius. Takeaway didn't seem enough recompense for taking away his chance to help Remus, though. I needed to do more. I reduced the letter to ash and then used  _Evanesco_ to clear the mess, trying to think of something. I needed to find a way to get Sirius out of Grimmauld Place for the night. The question was how. I didn't know, but there was someone who would.

I strode out of the office, down the corridor, past Jerry, who asked, "Where are you going?"

"To see someone. Wait in my office. I'll be right back."

I made a beeline for the forensics lab of my old Potions partner. In his crowded workspace, Edmund Blofeld stood gazing intently at something in his hand.

His stringy black hair obscured my view. "What's that?"

"Come here." He motioned imperiously. "Hold your palm up." Using tongs, he gingerly transferred the slug from his hand to mine.

I glanced down at the reddish lump oozing mucus on me. "Charming. Is this your pet?"

He curled his lip. "It's an experiment." Edmund bent to examine the slug. "How do you feel?"

"Are you asking me or Sluggo?"

He shot me an impatient look. "You."

"Slimy."

"Hmmm...." He walked over to a desk and began to write notes in a file.

I said, "Hey, you forgot to get your experiment off me."

"In a moment," he said absently.

Great, I was now a slug minder. Reluctantly interested, I watched the creature's lower tentacles move across the tips of my fingers. Was he smelling me? I wondered if he liked my geranium-scented lotion. I lifted my palm for a closer peek at the slug. He was kind of cute. His foot-thing had stripes on it. They weren't racing stripes; that was certain. Sluggo was slow.

Edmund finished whatever he was writing and returned to place the slug in a terrarium on a side table.

I used a Cleaning Charm to remove the mucous from my skin. "So," I said. "What was the experiment?"

"I was proving my theory that this variety of  _Arion rufus_  only eats flesh when its stomach is empty."

My jaw dropped. "You made me hold a  _Flesh-eating slug!"_  I wanted to hex him.

Edmund looked down his beaky nose at me. "You came here to request an unofficial favour, did you not? Consider it done."

On second thought, I'd save the hex for another day. "All right, I need a potion that works like Polyjuice but lasts longer than an hour."

"What are you using it for?"

_I want my cousin, the notorious fugitive, to take his partner out to dinner._ I smiled. "Them. I need two, but don't worry. The potions are for recreational use only."

Dark eyes narrowed speculatively. Merlin only knew what the man was thinking. I wasn't going to ask, or give any other explanation. It was none of his business. Besides, he owned me one for pulling that stunt with the killer slug.

He stalked over to a storage cupboard, removing two flagons. "Charmed chameleon skin makes  _Polyjuice Maximus_ last four hours." Edmund paused before adding, "I brewed them at home. I only use Ministry facilities for...storage."

Storage and sales, I would guess. I didn't comment. I had a side job too. "Right. Ta, thanks." I took the flagons. "Goodbye, Eddy," I said sweetly, to see him glare. "Take care of your pet."

"How did you—goodbye.”

I grinned all the way back to my cubicle, where I found Jerry sitting in a chair, head tilted to the side, with eyes closed. I looked past him to the paper aeroplane on my desk. Quietly, I placed the flagons in a drawer and picked up the note. The message consisted of one word:  **Yes**.

A yawn broke the silence. Jerry said, "I got a memo too." He smiled. "Finally, a good one. You won't be putting that up on the dartboard, will you?"

I folded the note and slipped it into a pocket. "No, I won't."

 

 

Remus answered the door when I knocked. I'd gone straight to Grimmauld Place after work, excited about giving Sirius the chance to go out.

Right away, I noticed the lines of weariness I was used to seeing on my love's face didn't crease as deeply as they usually did. I hugged him. "You must have had a lot of rest. You look good." I drew in an appreciative breath. "You smell good." I kissed his neck, lightly sucking the warm skin. "You taste good too."

He chuckled. "Is this a fractured fairytale? Little Red Riding Hood gobbles up the Big Bad Wolf?"

I playfully raked the skin of his throat. "Haven't you noticed what nice teeth I have?" I twined my arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. I nipped at his earlobe, whispering, "All the better to—" A movement in the corridor startled me into breaking off my sentence and my plan to gobble up my wolf with hungry kisses. "Damn it, Kreacher," I said. "Why aren't you doing something useful instead of lurking around like a bloody sneak?"

"Kreacher is not sneaking," the elf said with offended dignity. "Kreacher is answering the door." He turned his back, muttering, "If Mistress were alive, she would die of shame to know freaks and werewolves defiled her entry with their lust!"

"Ha! We wouldn't  _be_ here if the old hag was alive!" I shouted to his retreating form.

Remus smiled. "You didn't refute the claim that we defiled the entry with our lust."

I smirked. "I considered that a compliment." Belatedly remembering Sirius, I pulled the flagons out of a robe pocket. "Look what I have."

"Strengthening Solutions? I don't think I need them." Remus winked.

I looked him up and down. "No, you don't." I returned the wink. "They're for Sirius and Cami, Polyjuice Maximus Potions that will last four hours." My smile felt like it stretched from ear to ear. "They can be us and go out to dinner!"

"Did I hear someone say  _go out to dinner?"_ Sirius bounded into the entry, picking me up in hug that squashed the breath out of me. "Clever, wonderful, cousin!"

"I don't know if that's advisable." Remus looked concerned. "Dumbledore said..."

Sirius barked with laughter. "When have Marauders ever followed everything Dumbledore said?"

"They'll look like us, and I'm sure Sirius will take every precaution to avoid unwanted attention," I said pleadingly. "Can't you see how much this means to me—him?"

Remus slowly nodded. "I suppose one night out wouldn't cause harm." He chuckled when Sirius shook his hand with almost comic vigorousness.

"I'll be good. I'll be better than good. I'll be you!" Sirius rushed off to owl Cami.

After she owled her thrilled acceptance, I Apparated to Cami's to give her the Polyjuice. When I returned, Sirius's singing echoed through the house.

_Should I stay or should I go now?_

"He's always liked The Clash," Remus said. "I do wish he wouldn't emphasise that if he goes,  _there will be trouble_  with such glee, though."

I gave him a peck on the lips. "But if he stays, there will be double!"

"That's the only reason I'm behind this outing," he said with a smile. He abruptly shook his head. "No, it isn't. I'm behind it because I know how important this night is to you." His eyes became searching. "I hope you will feel the same way when something is as important to me."

Sirius came bounding down the stairs, distracting me from asking questions. It was strange to see my cousin's smile on my partner's face.

_"¿Me debo ir o quedarme?"_ he sang.

I looked at Remus, who said, "Should I cool it or should I blow, if I remember correctly."

"Of course you remember it, Moony! How many times did I sing it after that concert in '81?"

"More times than I wish to recall."

"You don't appreciate musical genius, mate."

I listened to them with a smile before reminding Sirius that the four hours started when he  _took_ the potion. I was trying to prod him out the door, but he thought I was being managing.

"Yes, Mum," he said, rolling his eyes.

 

 

After Sirius left, I slipped my arms around Remus's waist. "I thought he'd never leave." I raised my face, but he didn't kiss me.

"I need to speak with you, Nymphadora."

Nervous butterflies started fluttering in my middle. "You're using the professor tone. I feel like I've been naughty, and not in a student/teacher fantasy kind of way."

His brows drew together. "What do you mean?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "You know. I'm student called into your office, I cross and uncross my legs a lot, and I'm not wearing knickers."

He blinked. "Ah. Perhaps we should have our discussion somewhere more private."

The thought of Kreacher listening gave me the shudders. "OK."

Remus led the way upstairs. He climbed another flight of steps instead of heading to his room. "Being in a room with a bed...or a chair...would not facilitate conversation," he threw over his shoulder.

The saucy comment on the tip of my tongue remained unspoken when I caught a glimpse of his profile. Whatever he wanted to talk about was serious. I followed him into the attic, into the large circle drawn in chalk upon the floorboards. I waited for him to speak.

He took my hands. "I slept less hours and feel more rested than I did when taking Wolfsbane."

"That's wonderful!"

"Is it?" Amber eyes were dark with misgiving. "I read about blood magic today. There is a risk that the caster's vitality will be drained by the one bound."

"You aren't taking from me, you're giving!"

Before I could tell him about my heightened sense of smell, he said, "I wish I could believe that, but I refuse to gamble with your wellbeing."

A panicked feeling swelled within me. "Where did you get your information? Who wrote it? What do they know, anyway?" I didn't give him a chance to answer. "If the book was from Sirius's library, it was probably written by a Dark wizard talking about Dark uses of blood magic. What we did wasn't Dark!"

His fingers lightly pressed mine. "I do not doubt your intentions."

I tried to yank my hands away. "You think I cast a Dark spell, and if I'm with you on full moons you'll drain my energy?"

He refused to let me go. "I cannot take the chance."

I wanted to cry. "Not ever?" I read the answer in his eyes. "No!" I said. "I won't accept that."

Remus looked sad, yet determined. "You have no choice. I will ward that door and have Sirius order Kreacher not to allow you into the attic for any reason."

I wrenched my hands out of his grasp in order to clutch his robes in my fists. "We are bound together in ways I'm only starting to get my mind around. Ward the door all you like. I'll find a way in. You can't keep me out."

His hands reached up to cradle my face. "I'm trying to keep you  _safe!"_

"I don't want to be safe!" I kissed him hard. "I want you."

Remus's arms closed around me. "You will be safe."

His mouth parted mine with a raw heat and need that channelled my passion in another direction. I wanted nothing more than to join our bodies to match our hearts and spirits. With my lips and my touch, I offered everything. I caressed the planes of his face, his back, before unfastening his robes to slide my hands up and down his chest.

Every sweep of Remus's fingertips trailing over my clothing made muscles clench in anticipation of feeling his touch on my skin. I could literally smell desire, his and mine. It heightened the pleasurable tension to an almost excruciating level. I pressed against him, increasing the ache that made my cheeks burn. It was hard to catch a breath. His stroking hands teased me to a point where I was willing to beg.

I didn't have to. Remus inhaled sharply and drew me down upon the floor. The word I had gasped for breath to speak remained a silent litany in my head.

_Please, Please, Please...!_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although The Clash didn't release Combat Rock until 1982, Should I Stay or Should I Go was written in 1981, so I took the liberty to say they played it at a concert, the way a single is released before an album, where Sirius heard it—months before his arrest in late '81 or early '82. I'm not sure the Spanish is an exact translation, but the band meant it to be when they got the tape operator to call his Ecuadorian mum and asked her to translate the lyrics. 
> 
> Anyone interested in Sirius’s night out is invited to read the one-shot Off the Leash.


	20. Shadow Magic

 

 

The full moon waned to a crescent and then began a new lunation. Strangely, our disagreement about blood magic seemed to follow a similar pattern to the phases of the moon.

After our last row, neither Remus nor I wanted to argue any more. When I told him about my attenuated sense of smell, he didn't say it was a negative effect of blood magic, but I could tell that was the way he viewed it. In the same way, he was well aware that I considered it a benefit, but he didn’t ask. We silently agreed to disagree.

The rest of October was spent finding ways to avoid discussing blood magic. Some of our methods, like having lots of sex and spending time with friends, were good distractions. Volunteering for extra Night Duty was not. Sitting in silence for hours on end wasn't my favourite thing to do, even if I was cuddled next to Remus, reading a good book. I liked to talk, move around, and  _do_ things. Especially if I was naked and doing things with Remus.

I hated being confined to a dim, narrow corridor without anything to do except stare at the shadows and play air guitar while I silently hummed Weird Sisters or MegaMaggot tunes. There was too much time to think, and such thoughts were dangerous to my peace of mind.

How was I going to get Remus to allow me into the attic on the full moon? The question consumed me. I would sit in the dark, hugging my knees to my chest or sitting lotus style to aid enlightenment, imagining ways to accomplish my goal.

Seduction was my first idea. It was easy to picture asking Remus to be with me one more time before the change. I would lure him up to the attic, wear him out, and then wait for the moon to bring my werewolf out to play. It was fun to envision what I would wear, and the things I'd do to wear him out. I would practise after duty was over.

Not so pleasant was my conscience reminding me of inconvenient things like the importance of honesty and trust in a relationship.

Trickery was my next thought. If I resorted to Firewhisky to drown my sorrows, Remus would probably drink to keep me company. After enough rounds, he would need my help to get him up the stairs to the attic. I would tipsily agree, leaning heavily against him as we staggered up the steps. Once he was shackled, I would pass out for a few hours…conveniently inside the circle of confinement.

Aside from my conscience pricking me about the lack of ethics, another consideration kept me from popping over to the off-license: Sirius. My cousin could drink both Remus and me under the table. In all likelihood, he would dump me on Remus's bed and then haul his friend upstairs. I'd have to listen to the pair sing drinking songs while I tried to crawl into the loo. With my luck, I wouldn't reach the toilet in time, and the next morning I would have vomit in my hair.

Begging was another option. I could see myself crying while pleading with Remus to let me stay with him. He would be stricken with guilt to see tears roll down my cheeks and sweep me into his arms, vowing we would never part. Imagining a passionate clinch was inspiring, but unfortunately, I couldn't keep the touching vision to stay firmly planted in my mind.

The scene would shift, and instead of looking like some beautiful tragic heroine from a romance novel, I would have swollen eyes, kohl running down my cheeks, and a pink nose. Remus would hug me briefly and then firmly set me away from him.

Another idea was to challenge him to a game of poker. If he won, I stayed out of the attic without argument. If I won, I stayed with him. That scenario didn't work either. I kept imagining we played Strip Poker, and I couldn't keep a poker face when I had a great hand. I was too eager to see him strip off another layer. I always ended up naked, peeling a poker chip off my backside as I watched my love leave the room.

One night I had a more practical idea. I'd go to Andrew's shop and borrow every tome I could find on blood magic. I would levitate the books up to Remus's room and say, "You think blood magic is Dark? Prove it!"

Sadly, however, I couldn’t imagine Remus  _not_ proving it. I already knew blood magic could be used for Dark purposes. It was the nature of magic to be a force shaped by the caster for good or ill. I had cast a spell to help, but more often, wizards and witches harnessed blood magic in order to cause harm. I couldn't deny it, not even in fantasy.

I wondered, sitting on the cold floor, if writing to Dumbledore would help. He was old. He had probably forgotten more magic than I'd learned. Surely, he would give me good advice. Then I remembered his advice to Sirius not to leave Grimmauld Place and changed my mind. Dumbledore stressed being safe over personal happiness.

Thoughts of advice led to bizarre imaginings. I saw myself scratching out a letter.

**Dear Snarky Severus,**

**My partner is a werewolf. I performed a spell that enables me to be with him even when he's not on Wolfsbane, but he's worried about the aftereffects of blood magic. If I didn't cast a Dark spell, shouldn't I be safe?**

**An Anxious Auror**

I imagined Snape curling his lip over my letter, holding it by two fingers while he read, as if to prevent contamination of his person. Heaving an exasperated sigh, he would grudgingly condescend to answer.

**Anxious Auror,**

**Were your partner's House colours scarlet and gold? If so, he is prone to taking bold action to protect others, no matter if it is warranted or not. In this case, the proof is in the potion, or the result of the spell. Have you felt weak, your energy draining away? If not, challenge your partner to look beyond his Gryffindor complex.**

**P.S. I have not given you permission to address me by my first name.**

Although I sniggered briefly at the thought of Snape's advice, mostly I sighed a lot on Night Duty. Remus would quietly ask what was wrong. I'd say I was expiring of boredom or wishing we could snog on duty. I couldn't tell him the real reason. It would have broken our unspoken agreement to pretend everything was OK.

I did get him to play Strip Poker one night we weren't on duty, though.

I won.

 

 

On the first Saturday in November, I received two owls. One was from Ginny Weasley, and the other was from Emmeline Vance. I opened my young friend's letter first. Ginny's notes usually made me grin, but not today.

 

_Dear Tonks,_

_Gryffindor played Slytherin, and you'll never believe what happened! First, the Slytherins sang an awful song about Ron not being able to save anything as Keeper. Then, after Gryffindor won, Malfoy taunted Harry and George into attacking him!_

_McGonagall was going to give them detention for Muggle duelling, even though she knew they were provoked, but Umbridge, that vile toad, has banned them and Fred, too, from playing Quidditch EVER AGAIN!_

_It's so unfair. Crabbe hit Harry in the back with a Bludger after the game was over, and he only got lines! Malfoy, who started all the trouble, got no punishment at all!_

_Harry's torn up about it. He looked so miserable I wanted to cry. If I get the chance to hex any of those Slytherins, I'm going to take it._

_I have to go. Don't tell Sirius, all right? I think Harry should do it, and I don't want Harry to find out how upset I was._

_I hope the weather is nice there. It's cold and snowy here. I know I should want to toboggan and skate and have fun, but I just can't. Maybe I'll use my roommate's snowshoes and take a walk. They're Muggle-made and work without spells. Who knows? I could write an essay about it for extra credit in Muggle Studies._

_Your friend,_

_Ginny_

 

I felt badly for Harry and the twins, but in a way, I felt worse for Ginny. She was the one who had to bottle up her emotions so no one would know the depth of her feelings for Harry.

I had been in her situation when I was at school, pretending not to care for a boy when I did. Now I pretended not to worry about the next full moon when it was always on my mind. It was enough to bring out my inner teenager. I wanted to cry and eat chocolate.

I refused to cry, but I did eat a chocolate drizzled croissant before opening the envelope addressed in Emmeline's elegant script. It was an invitation. Three-dimensional orange flames crackled and danced on the surface of a black card with  **Bonfire Night** written in bold yellow lettering. My mood shifted. I ran into the bedroom.

"Remus! Emmeline's having another Bonfire Night party!" I bounced on the edge of the mattress.

Remus sat up. His smile was sleepy. "I hope you won't get pegged for duty this year."

I swatted at him with the card. "Oh, you know I didn't really have duty. I was being naughty. This year, I promise to take a sickie if Gulch tries to stick me with duty." I leaned toward Remus, giving him a peck on the lips. "I only want to be with you."

His hand was warm against my cheek. "I know. I want to be with you too."

There was an undercurrent to our conversation that I didn't want to deal with right then. I turned my face to kiss his palm. "Good. Now come be with me out in the kitchen before I eat all the croissants and attempt the  _Prophet_ crossword with a permanent ink quill."

"We can't have that."

"No," I said. "I might use the wrong five-letter word for how a lover makes a woman feel."

A wolfish grin spread across Remus's face. "Randy?"

I kissed him again, lingeringly. "Happy."

 

 

On Bonfire Night, I asked Cami and Sirius to tell Emmeline there was something we had to do before the party, but we would be along soon, ready to wave sparklers and watch the Muggle fireworks over the river.

Remus smiled at me curiously when our friend Disapparated with Snuffles and we were left alone on the pavement between numbers eleven and thirteen Grimmauld Place. "What do we have to do?"

I took his hand and swung it in excitement as we walked toward the Central Floo Station. "You'll see."

Before long, we strolled across a public park. The paths were crowded with people out to enjoy Bonfire Night festivities. At one end of the common, funfair rides were set up. Remus noticed where I was leading him and grinned. "You want to ride the big wheel, don't you?"

"I want to ride it with  _you._  There's a difference. _"_

Remus's hand gently squeezed mine. "What if I'm afraid of heights?"

I sniggered. "Ha. Good one. You've climbed the fire escape to Morty's roof before. I know you don't fear heights."

"Perhaps I only braved my fears for you."

I knew he was having me on, but I still melted inside at the thought. "Tell you what," I said, pulling him over to stand in the queue for the big wheel. "I won't rock the gondola, and I'll wrap my arms around you real tight so you'll feel safe."

"All right."

The spokes of the upright wheel were lit up in colours of red, green, and yellow. I was content to watch the wheel revolve, tucked close to Remus's side, until it was our turn to board.

Remus startled when our seat lifted into the air. I quickly slid my arms around him. "You're not  _really_ afraid of heights, are you?"

He leaned down and kissed me. "No. I just wanted your arms around me."

I angled my head so I could shift my lips and kiss Remus fully and deeply. I sank my fingers into his hair, loving the heat of his mouth and body.

The sound of giggles carried on the wind made me smile against Remus's mouth.

His lips curved too. "Are we providing entertainment?"

I leaned forward. Our gondola had completed a circle and was lifting once more. On the ground not far away, a group of teenagers waited for their turn to ride. They waved. I waved back. The sound of giggles rose again. I sat back, scooting close to Remus. "I think we can take that as a yes."

He chuckled.

We sat gazing at the lights in silence until I gathered the courage to say what I needed to say. "Remus?"

"Yes?"

"I want to be with you on the full moon."

He opened his mouth to speak.

I said quickly, "But since you don't want me to—"

"It isn't a matter of  _want."_

"I won't."

"You won't?"

I had to smile a little at the surprise in his voice. "I won't try to be with you  _this_ month, if you'll make a deal with me."

"What kind of deal?" Remus asked warily.

"If after the full moon you still feel better than you usually do after a change, and I don't feel tired or drained, you agree to let me back in next month."

"It isn't that simple."

"It is if you let it be."

Someone cleared his throat. It was the operator, trying to get us to disembark. I clambered out of the gondola and waited for Remus. We walked away from the wheel, back across the park. I tilted my head sideways, peering at his set face. When he crossed a street and entered an alley, I was afraid he would Disapparate without giving me an answer. I called his name softly.

He said, "All right, Nymphadora. You have a deal."

 

 

After Remus Disapparated, I stood in the alley for a moment, wondering why I felt no triumph. I Apparated into Emmeline's back garden, where a small bonfire crackled with blue flames. I looked past the groups of Order members chatting to find Remus. He was pouring himself a glass of wine at a table set up on the patio. I sidled over. "Have I driven you to drink?"

His lips tilted up at the corners. "No. I was thirsty, and Emmeline has a superb taste in wine."

"You're not mad at me, then?"

"No. How could I be?" He handed me a glass of red wine. I noticed then that he had poured two. "To irresistible forces," he said. Our glasses made a clinking sound when they touched.

Before I could ask exactly what Remus meant by the toast, Cami came over to us, sparklers in hand. She extended one to me. "Come on, everyone's going down to the river. You don't want to miss the fireworks!"

I took a gulp of wine and set down my glass in order to hold the brightly burning sparkler. "Where's Snuffles?"

"Holding our spots."

I looked at Remus.

He said, "Padfoot always did insist on getting the best seats."

"Well, he won't be getting my sparkler," I said, waving it about.

"Skywriting, or near enough." Cami smiled. "What did you write?"

My eyes flew to Remus. "I love you."

"Aww," she said, heading for the riverbank.

Remus and I walked side by side. He bent to kiss my cheek. "I love you too." Sparkles reflected in his eyes, making them gleam amber, like a certain wolf. I sighed, thinking even without the borrowed radiance, I would be starry eyed.

 

 

The stars had long since fallen from my eyes by the time of the full moon. When the day arrived, I was moody and restless, snapping at my Auror partner and growling at people during interviews.

"Is it that time of the month?" Julia called laughingly when I declined having a drink with her and Tom after work.

"Yeah," I threw over my shoulder, stalking toward the lifts.

I should have taken the stairs. Crowded into a box with people who used cologne and perfume gave me a headache and made me tetchy. My mood turned foul when the lift halted abruptly at Level Four.

A short, round wizard who'd got on at Level Three groaned. "If I find out Bob's let one of his creatures jam the lift by pressing all the buttons again…."

"You'll what?" I asked crossly. "Shake your finger at him?"

"I…I don't know," the man said. "What would  _you_ do?"

"Start with a Stinging Hex and go from there."

"Yes," said a woman in the back corner. "Jinx him."

Someone behind me said, "I cast a great Slug-vomiting Charm."

Suddenly, it seemed like every person spoke at once.

"Bird attack."

"Rats."

"Twitchy ears."

"Jelly-Legs."

"Boils."

"Impotence."

" _BONO ANIMO ES!_ " cried the wizard from Level Three.

Everyone in the lift fell silent.

I smirked. "Oh yeah, a Cheering Charm will teach him."

"A fine vengeance." The woman in the back corner giggled.

The person behind me sniggered. "Exactly what he deserves."

Within moments, we were all laughing.

The doors to the lift slid open.

The group cheered.

A handsome, brawny wizard stood in the opening. He flashed a smile that had every person grinning back. "Just doing my job, folks. Sorry you had to wait while I fixed the panel. One of Bob's chickens breathed fire on it."

I leaned forward to read his nametag. "Thank you, Don."

"You're very welcome," he said as the doors closed.

When the lift reached the Atrium, the short wizard scuttled between me and another witch to exit. "Hey," I said. "You lifted the mood suggesting that charm. Thanks."

"I didn't suggest it. I cast it," the man replied cheerily.

 

 

Once I returned home, I started to experience that trapped in a lift feeling again. I changed clothes and went for a run. When I got back, I took a shower and moped around the flat until magical flames appeared in the fireplace.

"Nymphadora?"

I removed the pillow I had placed over my head and ran into the lounge. "Hi!" I said, as if I hadn't been considering ways to break our deal.

It was small consolation that he didn't appear happy with the situation either. "I wanted to say goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"I miss you already," he said with a sad smile.

I almost whimpered. "I'll come over in the morning and make you tea."

"I look forward to it. I love you."

"I love you," I said, trying to smile.

When the communication fire extinguished, I gave up pretending to be calm. I screamed as loudly as I could. It didn't help. I grabbed a vase off the mantel and threw it against the wall. It smashed into pieces with a satisfying crash. After I used  _Reparo_ to fix the broken vase, I hurled it again.

By the time the sun was setting, I was pacing the floor. Every muscle in my body felt tense. When I tried to sit down and leaf through a magazine, I couldn't concentrate. All I could think was I needed to be with Remus.

At nine o'clock, I was pounding on my uncle's door.

Lisa answered. "Morty went to pick up some chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream for me." She gave me a concerned look. "Can I help you with something?"

"I need a sleep aid. Does he have any potions around?"

Dark, almond-shaped eyes narrowed. "Why don't you use a Morpheus Charm?"

"The Charm lasts eight to twelve hours. I want to wake up early, to be with Remus at sunrise."

She placed a hand on my arm. "I was sorry to hear the Ministry ended the Wolfsbane Programme."

My smile felt tight. "Yeah, well, we deal with it the best we can."

She nodded sympathetically and fetched the potion. "This dose is good for six hours."

"Thank you." I reached out and patted her stomach. "You still don't look pregnant."

Lisa made a face. "My new dependency on Sizing Spells tells me that I am."

"You look glowing with health and happiness. I hate you," I said with a laugh.

She grinned. "The bitter envy of friends is such a compliment." She hugged me. "Go get some rest."

Back in my flat, I took one step into the bedroom before turning on my heel. I couldn't sleep in my own bed. I needed to be closer to Remus.

Kreacher didn't answer the door for five minutes. I counted, in between kicks to the wood panel. I wore combat boots to go with my MegaMaggot tee and khaki green trousers. They were fab for kicking the crap out of things.

After paint chips rained down and I'd yelled every threat I could think of, the door opened. The house-elf's eyes gleamed with twisted humour. "You rang?"

I prowled toward him. "I should pick you up and throw you against the wall!"

He smiled.

I ignored the little masochist and ran for the stairs.

The elf appeared on the second landing, blocking my way. "My blood-traitor Master is not allowing you in the attic. It is orders to keep you out."

"I'm not going  _into_ the attic. I'm only going to tell Sirius that I'm sleeping in Remus's room."

"I is not trusting you."

My hands balled into fists. "You warded the attic, right? How could I get in? I just want to get a message to Sirius. Let me by!"

I could almost see thoughts whirring behind those big eyes. "Yes…how is you to get in?" He smiled in a way that on any other night would have given me the shudders. Abruptly, he vanished.

I raced up the steps to knock on the attic door. "Sirius! It's Tonks!"

Within seconds, I heard a low growl on the other side of the door. He was warning me away!

I slapped my hand flat against the door. "I'm not trying to get in, damn it, I just—"

_Woof!_

He’d cut me off. He didn't believe me!

"Shut up, you furry bastard!" I kicked the door.

The barking grew more furious.

I punched the door with my fist to emphasise my words. "Listen—"

_Thud!_

"—to—"

_Thud!_

"—me!"

_Thwack!_

The 'thwack' sound would have told me I had broken the skin on my knuckles, even if I hadn't felt the sharp sting of torn flesh. I looked down at my injured hand, shocked to see blood. I didn't think to perform a Healing Charm. I sank to the floor, unable to tear my eyes away from the droplets that changed from dark to bright red as they slid between my fingers. I stared, mesmerised, until the sound of barking faded and my mind transported to another place.

 

_I was running through the forest, tracking my mate. I had awakened from sleep to find the ground beside me cold. He had left me to wander on his own. Although tempted to howl, I decided not to wait like some cub for the Alpha's return. I padded out of the cave and into the night._

_The full moon overhead made his trail even easier to follow. I heard a rabbit scamper in the underbrush, but I didn’t glance in its direction. I was after larger prey._

_When his tracks led me to a clearing, I slowed to a stop before I reached it. Carefully, I picked my way through the underbrush. I dropped to the ground and scooted forward, peering through leaves to locate my target._

_He was resting with his head on his paws near the far side of the open area. I painstakingly circled around to approach him undetected. Muscles bunched and prepared to spring. When he made a contented, huffing sound, I surged forward, into the clearing._

_My ambush took him by complete surprise. The force of my body hurtling into his caused my mate to roll onto his back. Without thought, I opened my jaws and placed them at his vulnerable throat._

_He raised his head, snarling. I yelped to realise what I had done. I had unintentionally challenged his dominance! Panicked, I backed away and then turned to run._

_He was upon me before my lope had a chance to become a gallop. I whined contritely, rolling onto my back, pulling in my legs…anything I could think of to show my submission. My mate grabbed my throat. I froze, unable to whimper for mercy._

_His teeth raked my fur—and began nibbling, grooming me. I lay quivering in joyous relief until his snout nudged mine. I rolled to my feet and licked his face repeatedly in happiness. He snorted when I accidentally licked his nose. I smiled before leaning close to groom his coat. My tail wagged so hard I could feel my entire back end shaking. When I felt his tail flop against me, I rubbed my shoulder against his._

_The night became magical when my mate howled. I joined in, changing my pitch rapidly to create a pack chorus. The combination of echoes resonating off trees and rocks and direct sound made our howls seem created by a large number of wolves. Our chorus ensured any lone wolf who heard us would avoid our territory._

_When our chorus wound down, he made a chuffing bark. It was time to return to our den. Together we walked side by side until we reached a narrow path. My mate growled playfully and nudged ahead of me._

_I gave a soft chuff and followed._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	21. Shadow Dreams

 

 

It was dawn when I awoke. When I shifted my position on the floor, sore muscles protested. I smiled through the pain, though, because I heard the faint sound of breathing; felt the gaze watching me intently.

I opened my eyes.  _"Aaahhh!"_

The face I saw didn't belong to the man I loved. It belonged to a house-elf who was now sniggering. His rusty-sounding amusement made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I dragged myself up to sit leaning against the door to the attic. Kreacher perched on the top stair as if poised to flee.

"What're you doin' here?" Without caffeine, it took effort to be articulate.

"You is wishing coffee?" He snapped his fingers.

A mug appeared on the floor in front of me. I reached for the handle. Before I drank, I asked, "This isn't some fiendish plot to poison me, is it?"

The wrinkled face was doleful. "Kreacher is under orders from his blood-traitor Master not to harm those who desecrate the house."

I took a sip of liquid caffeine. "Lucky me." After another drink, I could almost hear my mother saying _manners, Nymphadora_. Thinking that Gran's saying “train up a child” really meant “and when she is older, she shall not depart from your lessons without crushing guilt,” I muttered, "Thanks."

A gleam appeared in watery blue eyes. "Mistress was always in need of stimulants after a night of working Dark magic."

I set the mug down with a thud. "I didn't  _work_ a Dark spell last night."

"Blood magic is especially draining, she says to me." Kreacher's tone was hushed and reverent. It was if he spoke to himself. "To control others, you must be willing to sacrifice." His gaze fixed on my hand. "Sacrifice blood."

I suddenly felt the cold seeping through the cracks in the old house. I shivered. "Whose blood? Hers or someone else's?" I felt compelled to ask, even though I dreaded the answer.

He thrust out his arm. "Kreacher was begging Mistress to let him keep a scar, just a little one, but she was never letting him." His voice dropped into eerie imitation. "It is our secret, yours and mine. You are the only one I trust."

My stomach twisted. Walburga Black had been an evil hag to use him that way, and he was sick to take pride in it.

His expression turned gloating. "Master said keep you out, but I is knowing he cannot keep out spirit, the filthy blood-traitor."

I said faintly, "And here I thought you were just being nice."

Kreacher's expression mingled pity and contempt. "I is not  _nice_." He began to walk down the stairs, grumbling, "Especially not to freaks who is polluting his Mistress' home!"

If I couldn't kick him physically, I'd take a verbal jab. "Ha!" I cried. "You conjured me coffee. That was nice!"

I almost jumped out of my skin when he materialised on the landing beside me. "Master is ordering Kreacher to obey guests at all times, or I is not conjuring freaks anything!" He narrowed his enormous eyes to malevolent slits. "When Kreacher finds a way, Kreacher is getting rid of scum  _permanently_!"

I didn't think twice. I grabbed the mug and tossed coffee into his face. "Go crawl back under your rock, and…and see if you can find a bloody grammar book while you're at it!"

For an instant, I thought the elf might hex me. Instead, he smiled. "Mistress always makes sure her coffee is scalding."

Left staring at coffee stains on the floor, I said a word that would have earned me one of my mother's Soapy-Mouth Charms.

The attic door creaked open. Unbalanced, I put a hand back to brace myself.

"Why are you still here?" Sirius leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, but I wasn't deceived by his casual stance and tone.

I rose to my feet, one hand rubbing the small of my back. "You didn't listen to me last night, so what makes you think I'm going to tell you now?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You'll tell me or you won't get into the attic."

I walked toward the stairs. "Tell Remus I'll be in his room."

"Tonks, get back here!"

I held up two fingers in a backward V while taking the steps as fast as I could. I felt icky and out of sorts, so I grabbed Remus's robe and went directly into the bathroom.

Under the spray, I muttered imprecations against my cousin, who had a hell of a nerve demanding anything after his actions the night before.

I jumped when the toilet flushed. "I've heard of singing in the shower, but cursing is a new one."

I gritted my teeth. "Is the word privacy not in your vocabulary, Sirius?"

"Twelve years of prison life knocked it right out, along with other concepts like faith and hope."

My molars were grinding together now. "Don't play the prison card."

"Don't be giving me gyp. Tell me why you came here last night."

While I was deliberating how to answer, another voice said, "I’d like to know the answer to that question myself."

It was Remus. He didn't sound angry. Neither did he sound tired and disappointed. I tried to take comfort from that. "Can we have this talk  _after_ I finish, boys, or am I supposed to shout while I rinse my hair?"

Sirius said, "You had no problem shouting at me last night.”

"If you put the kettle on, mate, we'll be down in a few minutes." My love was such a peacemaker.

"Where have I heard that before?" Sirius asked dryly.

I finished rinsing off. "You told Remus that the other night, when he asked if you and Cami wanted to play cards!"

"See, she likes to shout," Sirius said. "It's a Black family trait, right up there with getting cosy with house-elves and performing Dark magic."

I peeled back the shower curtain to hurl the sopping-wet flannel. "Shut up!" The cloth hit my cousin on the shoulder.

He laughed at me. "Is that the best you've got? Come on, you can do—OW!" he cried, as I beaned him in the chest with the soap.  "That was a new bar. It still had blunt edges!"

"Next time I'll aim at your thick skull." I waved the shampoo flagon.

Remus said, "Go on, Padfoot. We'll be down in a few moments."

"Yeah, well, if all the water boils out, that's your loss. I'm drinking coffee." Sirius threw over his shoulder, "And she doesn't even  _have_ soap in her hair!"

"No, you don't," Remus said when we were alone.

I opened the shower curtain wider. "I said that to get rid of him."

He walked toward me. "I know."

I threw myself into his arms. "I wasn't trying to go back on my promise. I only went upstairs to tell Sirius that I was going to sleep in your bed!"

"I believe you."

"You're not mad at me?"

"No."

I peered up into his face. "You're sure you're not upset?"

"I'm sure."

I sagged against him in relief. Instantly, I became aware that he was fully clothed and I wasn't. I pressed closer. The rasp of clothing against my body felt like almost like the fingertips trailing down my back. The texture wasn't soft and smooth. It was slightly rough. The friction was arousing.

"Nymphadora."

"Hmmm?" I kept kissing my way up his throat.

"We need to talk."

I feathered a trail of kisses along his jaw. "OK."

"Why do I get the feeling you aren't listening?"

His rueful tone was adorable. I kissed him passionately. "You're communicating without words, and my answer is yes."

His hands stopped cupping my backside to clasp my shoulders. He put space between us. "Sex isn't the answer to every problem in a relationship."

Without the heat of his body, I got goosebumps. "We have a problem?"

Remus's brow creased. "Honestly, I don't know. We need to talk about what happened."

I disengaged the Water Charm and reached for a towel. "All right."

I wasn't trying to be provocative, drying off, but Remus growled, "Nymphadora."

I let the towel drop and reached out a hand to touch one of the damp patches on his shirt. " _Arere,"_ I murmured, wanting his clothing to be dry.

"Thank you."

I slipped on his robe. "You're welcome." I had to grin when he cinched my belt tighter and tied a double bow.

Sirius was frowning when we entered the kitchen. "There might be water left in the kettle."

I homed in on the coffeepot. "Remus can have it. I'll take coffee."

"Speaking of coffee, there wasn't a pot standing ready when I came down here. Where did that mug upstairs come from?"

I threw Sirius a _where the hell do you think_ look. "The coffee faery."

He gave a short bark of laughter. "Must have been crap for you to dump it on the floor."

I was tempted to toss the contents of my current mug. "I threw it in Kreacher's face. Wasn't your ear pressed to the door? From your comments earlier, I was sure you’d heard."

"Didn't need to go to so much trouble. Doggy hearing is very sharp." His expression tightened. "That's why I thought you’d left last night when you stopped pounding on the door and went quiet."

I looked at Remus. He picked up his teacup. "Let's sit and talk."

I chose a seat on the opposite side of the table from Sirius. Remus smiled a little as he sat next to me. I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue at both men. "I already told Remus why I came up to the attic."  _And I'm not going to say it again_  my tone stated.

My cousin smirked. "I heard you last night. I only barked so you wouldn't be tempted to go back on it."

I told Remus, "Skinned knuckles changed my plan to take a sleeping potion and spend the night in your bed."

It was hard to read his expression. "Then it wasn't a dream last night."

"Or if it was, I shared it." I tried to lighten the mood. "I surprised you with that ambush, didn't I?"

His lips curved. "Yes, you did."

"I hate to interrupt the trip down memory lane, but why are you taking this so calmly, mate?" Sirius shook his head. "The whole point was to prevent her from using blood magic. We failed."

"Not without learning in the process," said Remus. "The spell engages without a visual connection." He appeared lost in thought for a moment. "All that remains to be seen is if the spell engages without any stimulus whatsoever."

I snorted. "That's impossible."

"Why?" asked Sirius. "You stay away from him and sharp objects, and there’s nothing to trigger the magic."

"Yes, there is."

Remus said, "The mind."

"Yeah." I gazed at him steadily. "I get turned on thinking about you. If the mind can generate a physical reaction, why wouldn't thoughts be able to stimulate magic as well?"

Sirius groaned. "I really didn't need to hear that."

"Would you be willing to do an experiment?" Remus asked.

"What kind of experiment are you talking about?" Sirius's tone was wary. "Remember Kreacher could be spying."

I never took my eyes off Remus. "I'll do anything it takes to be with you."

"Will you take a sleeping potion?"

I said, "Why stop there? A Morpheus Charm usually provides dreamless sleep. That would be the truest test." I reached out to smooth the crease in his brow. "I'll be happy to prove nothing can keep us apart."

"What happens if you don't dream?" Sirius asked.

"I hope Remus and I both keep feeling fine, and he finally believes the binding spell wasn't Dark." I took in my love’s appearance. "You don't look as tired as you have in the past. How do you feel?"

He smiled. "Not nearly as tired as I have been in the past."

"Do you want me to make you breakfast?"

"Eggs, bacon, toast with raspberry jam if we have any left," said Sirius.

"I'm not hungry," Remus said.

"Are you sleepy? Do you want me to tuck you in bed?"

Sirius set his mug down on the table. "Be rather hard to conjure breakfast if you're not in the kitchen, cousin."

A flick of my wand had an orange box with red-lettering floating out of the cupboards along with a bowl and spoon. "There."

"Wizard Ready Brek? I could make myself porridge oats!"

"Then do it. Nobody likes a whiner."

"Nobody likes a tease, either."

"That's why Remus  _loves_ me."

"Something else I didn't need to hear." Sirius said. "Clear off!"

I picked up my mug and sashayed toward the door.

"No drain of her energy, the cheeky monkey," I heard my cousin grumble.

"No," said Remus. When he found me waiting halfway up the basement stairway, he said, "You could have given him Muesli."

I giggled. He walked up the steps to kiss my cheek. "I disagree with his assessment. You are not a cheeky monkey. A cheeky Metamorphmagus, perhaps."

I undid the bows on my belt. "I could be a tease, too, if you'd like."

His gaze dropped to the gaping fabric. "That would definitely be stimulating." He looked at me closely. "How are you feeling? Do you really feel no drop in energy?"

I took his hands and tugged. "I've loads. You'll see. I'll do all the work."

He smiled wolfishly. "Work, is it?"

I grinned. "I love my work."

The front doorbell rang.

I put my hands on my hips. "How am I supposed to get any work done around here if people are bothering us at all hours?"

Remus chuckled. "I'm going to get a complex about being out of work if you don't stop using the term that way."

"Look beyond your Gryffindor complex," I said laughingly, running up the stairs to open the door before the Wicked Witch of London started shrieking her painted head off.

"Wotcher, Arthur!" I cried, happy to see the man on the front step. I hadn’t been assigned to assist him in weeks, and I missed our search and seizures, as he called them.

"Hello, Tonks. Remus," he said. "I apologise for dropping by unexpectedly."

Remus shook his hand. "We're always glad to see you. Would you care for a cup of tea or coffee?"

"No, no, I'm here for a favour, actually," said Arthur, sounding embarrassed. "I have night duty tonight, and I was wondering if you might switch with me. Molly's been rather low, worrying about Harry and fretting over Percy. Her favourite restaurant's always booked, but they had a cancellation."

"I'll stand watch," Remus said.

"Me too," I said with a bright smile.

Arthur seemed to look everywhere but directly at us. "Thank you, thank you both. I won't keep you. Again, beg pardon for the intrusion. Good day!"

I turned to Remus when we were alone. "Was it just me, or was he acting odd?"

His eyes grew wide. I looked down and my jaw dropped. Cor, I hadn't retied my belt properly! My baps weren't showing, but it was clear I wasn't wearing anything beneath the robe. "Oh, Merlin," I said. "If he tells Molly she'll hex me!"

"I'm sure he won't breathe a word."

The amusement in my love's eyes brought out my naughty side. "Yeah," I said. "It isn't like I did  _this!"_ I flashed Remus before making a dash for the stairs, looking forward to proving that I had loads of energy.

 

 

Night duty; drinks with Julia and Tom; cards with Sirius and Cami; Sunday brunch with my parents; tea with my Gran; a side job for Scrimgeour; a night dancing at the club—those activities filled the calendar blocks leading to the next full moon.

When I wasn't working, something else occupied my time besides Remus: my private research into dreams.

It started with a conversation with a bookshop owner in a hole-in-the-wall type of place off Knockturn Alley. I had morphed my features and hair to be mousey and plain. I was content to feel the eyes of strangers slide past me as if I didn't exist.

Shop owners were interested in sales, not appearances, so the proprietor of  _Olde and Forgotten Lore_ scurried over the moment I entered. His sharp nose twitched with eagerness to sell.

After I explained what I was looking for, Mr. Ratigan scampered down a narrow aisle of books to present me with a slim tone called  _Harnessing Morpheus._ He assured me when I asked that it had nothing to do with bondage and everything to do with controlling one's dreams.

Reassured, I paid what seemed like an exorbitant sum for a mouldy old text and took it home to begin reading.

According to the book, it was possible to dream even under the sway of the most powerful sleep charms if the witch or wizard had practised lucid dreaming. In such a dream state, the person was aware that he or she was dreaming and could eventually control the dreamscape created by their imagination.

I started my own practices by consciously intending to remember my dreams. After I did breathing exercises to tense and release tension in my muscles, I’d drink half a glass of water and say to myself, “I'm going to dream, and when I wake up, I will drink this water and remember my dream.”

Remus had to suspect that I was trying to harness the Morpheus Charm to allow me to dream under its effect, but since it was a matter of mind, not magic, he didn't object. He probably thought it wouldn't work and found my efforts amusing.

I knew he enjoyed reading the dream scenarios I jotted down in a log book. Most, I only recalled in bits and pieces, but one I remembered in such detail Remus said it read like a story. It involved finding a Time-Turner and ending up with Remus at Hogwarts in 1976. When he asked what would have happened if Dumbledore had not interrupted us, I of course had to show him.

 

 

The first week of December brought out festive decorations and the need to shop and sing Christmas carols for most people, but my focus was on the rising moon.

Remus had sent an owl to say goodnight, since the moon would rise before I got off work. Six o'clock found me staring out a window into the darkness, praying that my weeks of practising lucid dreaming would somehow alter the Morpheus Charm and allow me to dream, if magic alone would not suffice.

On impulse, I wore the Cardinal cloak Remus gave me last Christmas to bed. I put up the hood and wrapped myself in the scarlet cloth. Before I stretched out on the bed, I drank half a glass of water. I said fiercely, "I will dream, damn it. I will dream and remember my dream when I wake to drink the rest of this water!"

After taking several deep breaths, I tensed then relaxed my muscles until it felt like my body was sinking into the mattress. Languidly, I recited the Morpheus Charm and fell into darkness. Within the darkness, a glimmer of light beckoned. I was drawn to the light, which grew blinding.

 

_I opened my eyes to find myself lying in a faerie ring deep inside a forest. I sat up, huddling into my cloak, although I wasn’t cold. All around the grassy ring, snow covered the ground, but inside it was as though spring held sway against the chill of winter._

_My eyes squinted to see better in the moonlight. I had no idea how long I had slept. I didn’t know how far I had travelled off the path that skirted the forest's edge._

_I looked down to see the flowers that had lured me from safety into the unknown. The vanilla almond scent of faery phlox had wafted on the breeze, tempting me into stepping off the path. My Gran loved to tell stories about faeries, and faery flowers would make her feel better than the crock of chicken soup my mother asked me to deliver._

_I sighed. I was supposed to be a grown woman, and yet I acted like a reckless girl. Now I would have to cast a Patronus and wait for my father to fly to the rescue. I hoped he wouldn't bring his axe. He was ace at throwing it at woodcutter competitions, but I refused to believe there was any danger that would require deadly objects to be waved around._

_I heard a low growl and froze. There were no wolves in Britain, were there?_

_A wolf walked out of the underbrush._

" _I guess there are," I said with a nervous laugh. A thought struck. "Are you a werewolf?"_

_He trotted forward until I could see by his snout and his eyes that yes, he was a textbook-perfect example of a werewolf. When I looked into his eyes, I didn't feel fear. I felt…strange. A restless yearning overwhelmed me. I took off my cloak and left the scarlet material in a pool on the ground as I walked off the grass and onto the snow. The wind was bitterly cold, but I didn't shiver. I felt warm. The moment I stepped out of the faery ring, I had changed._

_I drank in the scents carried on the air and made a contented sound in my throat. I looked into amber eyes and padded closer._

_When I rubbed my muzzle against his, my mate made a chuffing sound, as if to ask what had taken me so long._

_I smiled and nibbled a bit of twig off his coat._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could imagine the Time-Turner “dream” Tonks wrote down so vividly, I decided to make it a one shot, Time after Time (which I hope you’ll go read).


	22. Shadow and Claw

 

 

_Moonlight trickled down through the canopy of trees to reflect against the fallen snow. My mate led me through the forest, his tail held stiffly horizontal. He was on the alert for prey. In this season, animals went to ground, making the hunt a challenge._

_An image swam to the surface of my memory. We had left behind food in the clearing. I barked softly._

_My mate turned his head to look at me over his shoulder._

_I backed away._

_He growled._

_I arched my back and half-tucked my tail in supplication, pointing my muzzle up._

_He continued to regard me unwaveringly._

_I drew my lips and ears back._

_He wheeled around and playfully nipped my snout before trotting away, retracing our path toward the clearing._

_I followed him, tail wagging._

_When we reached the patch of forest bared to the moonlit sky, I trotted ahead in eagerness._

_My mate snarled._

_I crouched submissively, licking his face in apology._

_He rubbed his muzzle against mine and padded cautiously forward._

_I stayed pressed to his side, although I wanted to lope across the snow to snatch the basket and shake it until the food fell out._

_My mate stopped near the ferns that made a border around the grassy circle. I chuffed. We could jump into the ring if he did not want to walk into it._

_He barked._

_I cocked my head to the side. Why would he not enter the ring? There was no danger there. I whined. It was warm inside the circle, with the scent of growing things. I pawed in the direction of the food waiting for us inside. I smelled meat. Was he not hungry?_

_He made a deep, rumbling noise in his chest. I whimpered. He wanted to leave this place of warmth and food! Was it the strangeness of grass in winter? I decided to show him that there was no danger._

_My mate snarled when I sprang forward, into the circle._

_The yelp that tried to burst free strangled in my throat._

_The moment I entered the faery ring, I had changed._

_I lay sprawled on the bright green grass, an overturned basket near my hand. I stared at my pale flesh, confused. Why was it not a paw? Why wasn't I a wolf anymore?_

_I realised that the faery ring must nullify all other magic within its bounds. "No," I said aloud. "I don't want the dream to end." I rubbed my hands together. Somehow, that helped my mind to focus._

_The wolf began barking furiously, darting back and forth around the edges of the circle. Did he think his mate was concealed somewhere he could not see? When he circumnavigated the ring and returned to stand across from me, he sniffed the air and began to howl._

" _I'm still the same," I whispered to the mournful animal, tears rolling down my cheeks. I wanted to step out of the ring again, but I was too afraid. If faery magic interfered with blood magic, I might not be able to take the form of a wolf again this night. If I left the circle and remained human, he could attack. I didn't want to die or become a werewolf._

_I reached for the basket and opened the lid so he could see the food as well as smell it. "I'm sorry," I said brokenly. "I only wanted to help." I pushed aside the crock of soup to reach for a drumstick. Impatiently, I bunched up my skirts in order to crawl on hands and knees. I set the chicken leg just outside the ring._

_He didn't take it._

_I could see his eyes glowing amber in the moonlight. He gazed at me steadily. I took my wand out of a pocket and placed it on the grass. "Lumos," I said. The tip of my wand began to glow. Now I could see that his ears were flattened against his head. He was suspicious of me._

_I tossed the drumstick onto the snow. After a few moments, he cautiously edged closer until he snatched the meat in his teeth and trotted into the forest to eat it._

_He didn't return for such a long time, I almost cast a Patronus to summon my father. Hope stayed my hand. Hope that the wolf would come back to me._

_When he did, I had to cover my mouth with my hands to stop from crying out with joy. I didn’t want to startle him in any way._

_The wolf's posture was different from before. No longer defensive, he stood stiff-legged and tall, with his tail curled toward his back. He stared penetratingly in my direction, hackles bristling slightly, ears erect and proud. He was displaying his dominance._

_I smiled, hoping he would take my pulled back gums as a sign of submission._

_He snarled._

_I hurriedly dropped down to lie on my back near the edge of the circle. I turned my head away, exposing my throat. I clasped my hands together on my chest, praying that he would come closer._

_I strained my ears, but the snow covering the clearing muffled sound. It took a quiet chuff to reveal the wolf was nearby. With agonising slowness, I turned my head and met eyes staring from only a few metres away. I would know those eyes anywhere; recognise the soul that had taken a different form._

" _It's me," I said in the faintest of whispers. "You haven't lost your mate." I held out a trembling hand. "Come to me."_

_If he stepped into the circle, it would prove our bond was stronger than his animal fear. Since faery rings were places of safety, his action would also show that he meant me no harm._

" _Please," I begged. "Please."_

_It was hard to draw breath as I waited for what seemed like an eternity for him to make a decision._

_The rustle of ferns was one of the most beautiful sounds I had ever heard. I watched him sniff my outstretched fingers and wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Instinctively, I picked a bit of twig off his coat._

_He stood gazing down at me for long moments before settling beside me on the grass. Gingerly, I ran my hand over fur that felt coarse on top and soft underneath. How different it felt to human senses. I became more confident, stroking his chest as well as his back and side. I wasn't bold enough to pet his muzzle._

_Across the ring, a mischievous breeze swirled faery phlox into the air like a child blowing a dandelion puff. The tiny, white flowers drifted down like fragrant snowflakes. A few landed on the wolf's back. I smoothed my hand over his fur to dislodge the flowers._

_My body jerked in surprise when I felt his teeth nibble my hair._

_When he rested his head on his paws, my racing heartbeat slowed, and the nervous tension that had gripped my body drained away. My eyes grew heavy as the warmth of the air and the wolf beside me calmed my spirit. I closed my eyes in happiness when he licked my cheek._

_I sighed, "Remus," and drifted off to sleep._

 

I awoke with a sense of well-being that made me sigh contentedly. I stretched my arms above my head and pushed out through my hands and down through my toes, enjoying the full-body stretch, and wishing my love's body was beside me.

I turned my head to check the time and blinked in shock. It was ten o'clock in the morning!

I hurried into the bathroom, telling myself there were all sorts of reasons why Remus had stayed at Grimmauld Place instead of coming over to see me. The Morpheus Charm could have affected him, too, and instead of waking at sunrise, he slept on, the way I had.

An assistant ran  _Chocolat_ on Sundays, but I was sure the hot chocolate would be almost as good as when Jan made it. I could pull a Little Red Riding Hood and bring my love a basket of goodies, waking him with a chocolate-y kiss, since I wouldn't be able to resist tasting a chocolate croissant.

If he was awake, perhaps Remus was being considerate, allowing me to sleep in. He always thought of others first. I could imagine him making a cup of chai, telling Sirius that he would rest until I arrived. When I started imagining him undressing before climbing into bed, I had to adjust the water charm to a cooler temperature. In my mind, he swayed to jazz while slowly unfastening each button.

Diverting my thoughts onto another track, I decided that at this time of day, a picnic basket would be a better idea. We could meet Cami at the park. She could play with Snuffles while Remus read a book and I watched all the people around us, creating outrageous stories about them to make him smile.

As I dressed in a magenta-coloured Indian tunic and denims, another idea crossed my mind. The Patils might have invited Remus over for lunch! The children missed their tutor and his magic dog.

I felt a slight pang at the thought that he would visit without me, but I shrugged it off. If he and Sirius had gone to the Patils, there would be other times to play Commander Natasha to his Super Commando Dhruva with the children. Maybe next time I'd volunteer to play a villain and make the sexy Dhruva work hard to catch me. That was always fun.

When I knocked on Sirius’s door, I mentally prepared for Kreacher to answer, smirking as he told me there was no one home. If he did, I planned to brush past him and leave a note in Remus's room before popping over to Cami's and taking her to the park. We'd have a picnic and then go shopping—have a girls' day out.

Sirius's voice in the entry threw me off balance. "Had a good night's rest, did you?"

I strolled inside and closed the door, trying not to react to the goad in his voice. It could be hunger making him tetchy. I held up the basket. "I brought food for a picnic." I looked toward the stairs.

"He isn't here."

My cousin’s flat tone was starting to irritate me. "Did he go visit someone? The Patils? Andrew at the bookshop?"

"Not that I know of."

"When did he wake up?"

"About an hour ago. He went to his room for a while and then said he needed to take a walk."

I repeated blankly, "He needed to take a walk."

"Didn't I just say that?"

I glared. "What's your problem?"

Sirius crossed his arms across his chest. "My problem is that Moony walked out of here looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders while you skipped in the door like you don't have a care."

I didn't want him to sarcastically ask if I was hard of hearing, so I only echoed  _the weight of the world_ in my head. Stars and stones, what had happened last night? Was my dream only that, a figment of imagination, not a shared experience? Did the Morpheus Charm void the magic bond? Had Remus been alone, his spirit chained to the attic floor along with his body?

There was one way to find out.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" said Sirius. "I don't like the look on your face."

"I don't like your tone or attitude," I shot back. "You automatically blame me for Remus's mood. Maybe he had a headache!" I made to walk past him.

He grabbed my arm. "Don't be a gobshite. If my friend is feeling low, you're the cause of it. So tell me. What happened last night?"

I jerked my arm away. "I had a dream."

His brow furrowed. "What kind of dream?"

"None of your business." I marched toward the stairs.

Sirius followed. "I'm making it my business."

I loved my cousin, but I was tired of his watchdog act. I spun on my heel. "Where’s Cami?"

He blinked. "She…she's coming over later."

"Why isn't she here now?" I leaned near and audibly sniffed. "Are you afraid she'll smell the Firewhisky seeping out of your pores?"

His mouth fell open. "How do you know I was drinking Firewhisky last night? I took a shower. I chewed mints."

"Take another one and chew another mint," I said, "Because you reek of alcohol."

I got halfway to the second floor before he once again stopped me—this time with a hold on my wrist. "I don't reek of Firewhisky. If you think I do, your sense of smell is almost  _animal like._ "

I tried to pull away. "Maybe Cami won't notice now, but what if she came over early, before you had a chance to shower?"

His grip tightened. "She never visits early."

I let my arm go limp. "That says it all, doesn't it?"

Sirius's expression tightened. "It isn't my fault she's an alcoholic. I never drink around her.  _Never_."

"But you drink."

Grey eyes were stony, even as he replied flippantly, "Black family tradition."

"And when you drink, you get drunk."

"Me and every other Englishman."

"Every time you drink."

A muscle jumped in his cheek. "Trying to turn the heat on me, are you? Won't work. We're talking about you, and what you've been doing to Moony with your blood magic."

He was right. This wasn't the time to try to make Sirius acknowledge that Cami wasn't the only one who was an alcoholic. Anger wouldn't motivate anything except defiance. Keeping that thought in mind, I released both a deep breath and my frustration with his suspicious attitude. He was worried about Remus, and I was too. "Look," I said. "I had a lovely dream that made me happy. Maybe he didn't share it. I don't know. I'll have to wait until he gets back to ask."

Sirius let go of my wrist. "You could wait in the kitchen."

I smiled. "Want a snack out of the picnic basket?" I handed it to him. "Go ahead. I want to think about things, so I'll be up in his room."

He took the food, turned to the stairs, and then shifted back to face me. "Do you really smell Firewhisky?"

I drew in a deep breath. It whooshed out in a burst of laughter. "You forgot to wash behind your left ear."

"No!" He rubbed fingers behind his ear and then sniffed them. "Blimey, you're a bloodhound." His chuckle faded. "Or a wolf."

"Only in my dreams."

Sirius looked troubled. "What happens when dreams spill over into real life?"

"A girl gets a sharp sense of smell without a furry little problem to go with it."

He nodded. "Keep it that way, please." He lifted the basket. "I'll keep the food."

"Will you owl Cami and ask if she'd like to go on a picnic?"

"Right after I go wash behind my ears, old mum."

I giggled. "An old mum, am I?"

"Yeah. Moony's an old man, and you're his old lady. Therefore, you're an old mum."

I put my hands together. "I bow to your logic, oh contrariwise one."

He cocked his head inquiringly. "Contrariwise?"

" _If it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic._ "

"Makes sense," he said with a grin. "Well, I don't have all day to go round the Mulberry bush. I'll send Moony up if he comes down to the kitchen when he returns."

"Thanks." I hummed, “Here we go round the Mulberry bush”as I went upstairs, thinking Remus would have been amused by the _Through the Looking Glass_ conversation. He might even have quoted _The Walrus and the Carpenter_. I only remembered “the moon was shining sulkily.”It was a funny image.

I closed the door to his room, feeling like a naughty girl trying to avoid being caught sneaking a peek at something she shouldn't. I wasn't looking for presents hidden under the bed or in the wardrobe, however. I wanted a look at Remus's journal.

It wasn't like he kept it secret. I had read over his shoulder while he wrote on several occasions. Conscious of my regard, he would write things that sometimes made me blush, even days later, when eating raspberries that had been used as points of comparison.

He didn't even put it in the desk, in a warded drawer. The journal sat on top of the old and scratched, yet polished wood. There was no ward on it that shot green sparks to discourage the nosy.

Staring down at it, I remembered Remus telling me that Romans used the  _Aeneid_  for divination, because it contained truth. They called it  _sortes Virgilianae_. I was sure the journal contained truth, and I had nothing better to do, so I decided to try my hand at Bibliomancy.

I balanced the book on its spine and allowed the pages to fall open. I closed my eyes and reached down with a finger. When I touched the page, I opened my eyes and read.

 

**November 1994,**

**Perhaps I should have taken Nymphadora's offer to prove she cares.**

**She wanted me to. I felt the way her body softened as I pinned her to the wall. The legs wrapped around me weren't trembling from fear. Her breath didn't hitch because I was hurt and angry. The desire I could taste and smell and feel beneath my hands was honest and real.**

**I could have seduced her, but I didn't. I left her to make the choice of whether or not to confront her feelings and her fears. I was so sure leaving was the right thing to do, and yet I still taste the passion in her kiss.**

**I have a bottle of Firewhisky around somewhere. I'm not ready to wash off her scent, but for my own peace of mind, I'd better have a drink.**

**I have a feeling it won't be my last.**

 

Just as I’d thought, Bibliomancy was crap. What was that supposed to mean? Remus was going to take me up on an offer to prove I cared in the future, or I was going to drive him to drink?

I didn't look to see if he had written an entry earlier today. Without permission, it felt wrong, and in the way an eavesdropper seldom hears well of themselves, what I had read didn't reflect well on me. I didn't want to chance reading worse.

I sat on the bed and tried to think of reasons why Remus needed to take a walk. With every passing minute, I felt my nerves tighten like guitar strings. I was wound so tautly, I sprang off the mattress the second I heard the door handle turning. "Remus! I've been so worried! Are you all right? Did you dream?"

His lips tilted up at the corners, but it wasn't a smile of happiness. It looked pained. Sirius's words reverberated in my mind.

_Moony walked out of here looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders._

Remus walked toward me slowly, as if he still carried the burden of heavy thoughts. "I dreamt," he said, "but I didn't control the dream. You did." His eyes searched mine. "Nymphadora, what have we done?"

 

 


	23. Light in Shadow

 

" _Nymphadora, what have we done?"_

His tone had a visceral effect on my body. At other times, Remus could say my name in a way that melted me like chocolate, but this made my stomach drop in dread. I said, "Didn't we prove that our bond is stronger than a Morpheus Charm?"

"Yes."

"Isn't that good?"

He said, "Tell me about your dream."

I reached for his hands. They felt cold. How long had he been walking? The day was overcast and cool. "Don't you mean _our_ dream?"

"I want your perspective on it."

His voice was gentle, but the look in his eyes reminded me of a time when I had gone behind his back and ended up feeling and looking like crap. I tried not to let my nervousness show. "Well, it started out like a Wizarding version of Little Red Riding Hood, except I awoke in a faery ring, and when I stepped out, I became a wolf."

"Is that all?"

I laughed a little. "No, I followed you through the forest until I remembered there was food in the picnic basket, and we went back to get it."

"And then?"

Remus's expression was unfathomable. I couldn't tell if he asked because he didn't remember some things clearly, or if he was comparing what I said to what he remembered to test my honesty.

I said, "I leapt into the ring, transformed into a woman."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you transform?"

I shrugged. "The faery ring made all other magic void."

"Then why didn't the wolf attack you when he entered the circle?"

Remus spoke quietly, but I felt like a suspect, with my interrogator trying to catch me out in a lie or make me slip up. I said, "You knew I was still your mate, that I only looked different."

"How did the wolf know?"

I squeezed his fingers. "He could have recognised my scent, but I think because you are the wolf, he knew it all along."

"He didn't know until last night."

Did my hands shake? I hoped my voice didn't. "I don't understand."

Remus let go of my fingers and walked over to the window. He stood looking down at the street below. "I’ve always tried to keep my humanity detached from my animal nature. Who I was at other times of the month had nothing in common with the monster I became each full moon."

I took a step toward him. "I thought you were trying to accept the wolf as part of you?"

He glanced at me before looking away. "Intellectually, I've begun to make strides, but the dream last night showed that emotionally, I still recoil from the thought of the wolf being anywhere near you."

"That doesn't make sense. I've been a wolf."

"Exactly," he said, facing me. "You were an animal…not a woman. I drew a line between the two, and you enticed the wolf to step over it."

I shook my head. "No. It wasn't like that."

"Wasn't it?" His eyes were shadowed and weary. "No wolf could imagine that scenario—only a woman who shaped a lucid dream to serve her purpose. You fed the wolf and then bared your throat, signalling submission as you beckoned him into the ring." Remus paused, and then asked, "What was your purpose?"

"There wasn’t one," I said. "I didn't  _control_ the dream. I reacted to events as they happened."

"Are you sure?"

Suddenly, I remembered saying that I didn't want the dream to end. "I rubbed my hands together," I said, sliding my palms against each other in re-enactment. "I read that dreamers should do that to stay lucid, but I didn't realise then what I was doing."

"Unconscious actions in a conscious dream?"

I suppressed the urge to wring my hands. "Don't you believe me?"

One corner of Remus's mouth tilted up. "I believe that you believe it."

"What are you saying? That I'm lying to myself?"

"I'm saying you need to examine your motivation."

His gentle tone stung. "I know why I reached out to the wolf. I wanted him to know his mate was still with him, even though I didn't look the same." I crossed my arms over my chest. "What was your motivation?"

I could tell Remus was extremely tired by the slowness of his reaction. "What do you mean?"

"The wolf went against instinct to walk into that circle. Why did he?"

His brow creased. "You controlled—"

"No," I said firmly. "I was responsible for shaping the dream, but you weren't my puppet."

"Then you influenced the wolf."

I reached out and brushed the backs of my fingers down his face. "No, love. You did." I sighed. "How could an animal comprehend on its own that his mate was in a different form? Would scent really be enough? I think your human nature enabled him to understand."

"That's impossible."

I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "It's magic and love. All things are possible."

There was a knock. Sirius opened the door to stick his head inside the room. "Cami will be over in a few minutes. Are you two on for a picnic?"

I nodded.

Remus shook his head. "I need to sleep."

"S'pose you have to tuck your  _baby_ into bed, eh cousin?" Sirius sniggered. "I'll go find a Frisbee."

After he shut the door, I asked, "You want me to tuck you in?"

Remus smiled a little. "I need to take a shower first."

"I could scrub your back."

"Thank you for the offer, but Sirius has been straining at the leash for days. Take him to the park." Remus strode over to the wardrobe and opened one of the built-in drawers.

I watched him gather clothing, feeling awkward. Was he just exhausted, or was he mad at me for saying what he didn't want to hear? "OK," I said. "I'll see you later. Get some rest."

"I will."

My throat was starting to hurt. "Bye," I whispered, rushing from the room.

 

Downstairs, Sirius was singing, "So all alone I keep the wolves at bay…."

"What's that song?" I asked, attempting to peer at the label of the bottle in his hand without being obvious.

"And there’s only one thing I can say—ay—ay…." He smirked, waving the bottle as he continued to sing, "Train in Vain, is the song, and this is not beer, no way."

"I didn't say it was."

"You didn't have to," he said, slipping the bottle into the picnic basket. Sirius waggled his eyebrows. "What big eyes you have." He noticed my expression. "Hey, why the long face? Didn't you and Moony kiss and make up?"

While I mentally scrambled to find a noncommittal answer, Cami entered the kitchen, brown hair mussed from the wind. "Hello, Tonks. Brilliant idea for a picnic." She crossed the room and kissed Sirius. "I've missed playing games with Snuffles."

He assumed a hurt expression. "Isn't playing games with me enough?" The rogue grinned. "Fine. Next time you'll be the pirate, and I'll be the captive you tie—"

"Sirius! I do  _not_ need to hear this." I rolled my eyes before telling Cami, "Use something besides ropes or fabric to tie him with. The Marauders invented—"

"How do you know that?" Sirius cut in. He made a face. "On second thought, don't tell me." He picked up the basket. "Here you go, cousin. I'd carry it, but the neighbours might stare to see a dog with a basket handle between its teeth."

Cami sighed. "They would stare because you're a magnificent animal."

Sirius grinned. "Shhh! Tonks doesn't want to hear about that kind of thing."

I pinched his ear. "Don't get cheeky."

"I was born cheeky."

Cami's eyes crinkled with amusement. "Did the Healer slap you twice?"

Sirius cocked his head in puzzlement. "Why would he slap me a first time?"

"Muggle Healers  _slap_ newborn babies?" I was indignant. "That's cruel!"

"Did a Healer assault you like that?" Sirius scowled. "I'll hunt him down and—"

" _No!"_ Cami said laughingly. "That's an old joke. Doctors—Muggle Healers—used to do that to help a newborn transition to breathing on their own. Now they just rub with a warm blanket."

I didn't see the humour, but maybe it was one of those Muggle things, like my dad laughing his head off over three blokes hitting and slapping each other when we watched films on telly with Gran. I glanced at Sirius.

He said, "Well, they better have used a soft blanket on you."

"I'm sure they did." Cami kissed his cheek.

"You give Snuffles a kissy and a pat," Sirius said with a pout.

"I'd give you a pat, except Tonks might not want to see it."

I snatched the basket and headed for the door. "I'll be waiting outside."

 

At the park, the sun came out from behind a cloud to provide a sunny patch of grass for us. While Cami and Snuffles wandered away to play Frisbee, I settled down on a blanket and looked around at all the people enjoying their day of rest.

One young couple was snogging under a tree. They looked to be in their late teens. The blond-haired boy sat with his back against the trunk while his redheaded girlfriend straddled his lap to kiss him. I noticed that some people gave them disapproving looks, but I thought they were sweet. I wondered if they would stroll in the park with a pink-haired baby someday.

Across the park, two older couples sat on adjoining benches, chatting. One elderly pair sat close together, holding hands. The other couple kept a distance between them that I could tell went beyond the physical. I thought they were terribly sad.

"Tonks! What's wrong?"

I sniffed and rubbed my eye with the back of my hand. "Nothing. It's the pollen."

Cami sat beside me on the blanket. "It's December, mate. There is no pollen."

_"Woof!"_

I threw a warning look at the mutt who had to give his two Sickles. "Maybe I'm allergic to dogs."

Snuffles's tongue lolled out the side of his mouth.

I picked a ball off the blanket and threw it. "Go fetch, funny boy!"

The great black dog turned his head to watch the ball roll and then looked back at me as if to say, “You threw it, you go get it.”

"When are you taking him to Obedience School?" I asked Cami.

She laughed at my cross tone. "Never. I like him untamed."

Snuffles padded over to lie on the blanket, resting his head on Cami's thigh. He looked up at her with soulful eyes. She kissed the top of his head and petted him while he made happy sounds in his throat.

I was jealous. Remus recoiled emotionally from me being near his wolf while in human form, yet these two got cuddly without anyone raising an eyebrow. I watched my friend gently rub in front of Snuffles's ears and saw the way the dog's eyes glazed. "Why does that feel good?"

"His hair is thick, but silky." Cami giggled at my expression. "Sorry, I couldn't help it." She bent to peck Snuffles on the muzzle. "He can't stick a paw into his ear when he has an itch, so when I rub the area from the outside, it feels good." Her fingers moved down to the area below the ears, near the jaw.

I leaned over to scratch behind his ear. "If I did this to Remus's wolf, he'd be upset."

Cami's expression was puzzled. "Why is that an issue? Isn't he off Wolfsbane?"

"Yes."

Snuffles rolled to his feet, barking once before running toward the ball on the grass. I took that to mean he didn't want me talking about blood magic to Cami. I stood and followed him. He trotted back to me with the ball in his mouth.

I tried to pull the ball, but he wouldn't release it, forcing me to tug harder. He shook his head, a doggy grin on his face as we played tug-o-war. Something Cami once told me came to mind. I stopped pulling and looked away, ignoring him. Sure enough, Snuffled dropped the ball at my feet. I smiled as I picked it up and threw the ball again.

Cami joined us in a game of chase. I was glad of the cool breeze by the time we stopped running around like kids, collapsed onto the picnic blanket to rest, and had lunch. Watching Snuffles gnaw a chicken leg, I thought of a wolf and sighed.

"All right, you're making that going to cry face again. This time, tell me what's wrong."

The dog stretched out on his side lifted his head and growled.

"May I remind you, love of my life, that she was my friend before I met you?" Cami told him. "If you can't be quiet, take a walk."

Snuffles lowered his head after making a grumbling noise.

I said, "Wow. You could teach obedience classes."

"I have," she said. "Now stop stalling. Are you and Remus fighting?"

"No." I looked over at the couple beneath the tree. The girl was leaning back against her boyfriend's chest. Her hands stroked the arms wrapped around her. "I almost wish we were." I glanced at the dog. "Then I'd know we were going to kiss and make up."

He gave a soft woof.

I said, "I want us to be one in spirit regardless of what forms we take." I felt the muscles of my face pull down. "Remus doesn't want that."

"You love each other," said Cami. "You'll find a way to compromise."

The way her eyes strayed to Snuffles, I wondered if she and my cousin had talked about his drinking. Was that why his declaration that he never drank around her had been so adamant—because they had an agreement that he wouldn't?

" _Tonks! Tonks!"_

I saw two six-year-old twins running toward us. I stood and waved. "Aashi! Samy!"

They headed straight for the dog.

"Snuffles!" Aashi cried, throwing her arms around his neck. The girl and the dog had almost the same shade of glossy black hair. They looked darling together.

Her brother Samyak didn't think so. He pulled her away so he could have a turn hugging the animal. "He still smells like people shampoo!"

"Is he still a magic dog?" asked Aashi.

Her brother threw her an indignant look. "Of course he is!" The boy put out his hand. "Shake!"

Snuffles put his paw into Samy's hand. The boy laughed and dropped the paw to hold out both his hands. "Give me ten!"

The dog slapped both front paws into Samy's hands.

"Good afternoon, Tonks! I hope my ill-mannered children are not disturbing your picnic," Neil Patil called laughingly, walking our way with his pregnant wife.

"I was thrilled to see them," I said, grinning at the children, who beamed.

Ambika smiled widely. "I am thrilled to see them when they return from school…at least until they start to squabble." She glanced at her daughter. Her eyes widened. "Aashi! Do not kiss a dog on the mouth!"

"He doesn't have stinky breath," the little girl said in a reassuring tone. "It smells minty!"

"He chews brushing/flossing mints like dog biscuits," Cami said.

I introduced her to the Patils.

Ambika said, "Dogs have germs, Aashi. Would you like to have to wash your mouth?"

Aashi jumped to her feet, big eyes sparkling. "I will eat a bubble if you make one!"

Her mother smoothed her blue tunic down. "I didn't bring my wand." Ambika smiled at me. "I like your kurti. Where do you shop?"

"Shankira's."

"Daddy!" Aashi tugged at her father's trouser leg. "Will you make bubbles for us?"

Neil said, "I didn't bring my wand either."

"I know a wandless Bubble Spell," Cami said. "Do you like gold-coloured bubbles?"

"Yes!"

Samy's smile revealed he had recently lost a bottom tooth. "I like golden bubbles too."

While Cami made bubbles for the children and Snuffles to pop, Ambika said, "We've been meaning to invite you and Remus over for dinner. Would you be available next Sunday?"

"I think so," I said. "I'll ask him and send an owl."

Neil chuckled. "No need. We'll ask him ourselves."

I followed his gaze to see Remus walking toward us. His gait was slow, his posture echoing the weariness of his face. I felt a chill run down my spine. Why wasn't he sleeping? Did the dream upset him that much?

"Hello, Neil. Good to see you looking so well, Ambika." Remus shook hands and smiled as the other couple greeted him. He told them he would look forward to dinner next Sunday.

"Is there anything I can bring?" I asked. "I live next door to  _Chocolat."_

"Any dessert from there will be delicious," Ambika said. She licked her lips. "Now I crave chocolate ice cream." She put her hand on Neil's arm. "Let's go to Fortesque's for sundaes."

"There is a vendor across the park."

"The vendor doesn't have a loo," Ambika replied tartly.

Neil called to the children, "Samy, Aashi, time to go!"

The twins protested until they heard a trip to an ice cream parlour was in store, and that we would be visiting soon.

"Will you bring Snuffles?" Aashi asked Remus. "He misses us. I can tell."

"Will you play Super Commando Dhruva?" Sami said.

Remus smiled. "Yes."

The boy was almost bouncing in excitement when he turned to me. "You can be Commander Natasha before she turns good."

I said, "I do have a knack for being naughty."

"Are you sure we are not related?" Neil asked dryly. "I would love to have someone to blame for my children's bad behaviour."

Ambika winked at me. "I blame his side of the family."

When the Patils said their goodbyes, Remus and I stood looking at each other in silence for a few moments.

He said, "I couldn't sleep without you."

Clumsy butterflies crashed together inside my stomach. "I could use a nap."

"I'll pack up after Snuffles and I enjoy the park some more," Cami said.

I nodded absently, my gaze riveted to Remus's outstretched hand. I took it, and fell into step beside him. His touch felt warm and so good I closed my eyes to savour it better—and promptly stepped into a depression in the ground and stumbled.

"Steady!" Remus pulled me upright.

"I should've watched my step." I grimaced. "It would've served me right if you let me fall on my arse."

"You can't anticipate every obstacle," Remus said, "and I'll never let you fall if I can help it."

I had to hug him.

Remus held me close. "Let's continue this in private."

The sun was playing hard-to-get behind a cloud again, but I was easy. "Your place or mine?"

"Mine. There's something I'd like you to read."

 

Unable to sleep, he had written in his journal. Remus had issues yet to be resolved, but he now believed the blood magic that bound us together wasn't Dark, and accepted that the wolf needed his mate. No more experiments with dreams were necessary. We would simply be together as wolves.

I smiled when I closed the journal. I could be happy with that.

After a kiss that was soft and sweet, we helped each other undress. Not for sexual reasons, although when he woke up, that would change. It was for the warmth and comfort that comes from sleeping intimately with the one you love.

As his chest pressed against my back and his arm draped across me, a song played in my mind. The words seemed to fit. I had a dream in my heart, and a love of my own.

 


	24. Celebration and Shadow

 

The day after the full moon, I returned to work feeling at peace with the world. I didn't even grimace when a baby crawled over to spit up on my boot during our first interview. Instead, I smiled as the mother cast a cleaning spell. The kid was cute.

My bubble of contentment popped when I entered the Blue Moon offices at the end of the day. Bubbles sat wide-eyed, wand suspended midair, fingernails half painted, riveted to the snatches of argument carrying from Morty's office. She blinked when I strolled over and waved a hand in front of her face.

"What's going on?"

She set down her wand and tapped a candyfloss-tinted nail to her equally pink lips. "December is the slowest month, so Morty made arrangements for a Ministry ceremony this Saturday." She made a face. "Lisa is in a bit of nark about not being consulted."

"Gee, I wonder why."

"I hear you two! Somebody engaged the two-way intercom spell!" my uncle yelled. "Get in here, Tonks!"

Bubbles looked disappointed not to be included. I pointed to the intercom before strolling down the hallway. "Hey, Lisa," I said when I entered. "Are you all right?"

She was standing beside a window, her arms crossed over her middle as though protecting the baby from his inconsiderate father. "Would you be?"

"Well, I'd rather have a private ceremony on a beach somewhere."

"That isn't what I meant!" Lisa shook her head. "He wants to exclude our family and friends from one of the most important days of our lives!"

Morty looked defensive and sullen, while my friend seemed about to burst into angry tears. I felt compelled to ask, "Why don't you invite your families to witness the Ministry ceremony and everybody else to the reception?"

Lisa sniffed. "What reception?"

I glanced at Morty. His expression was shifty. I fought the urge to take off my boot and fling it at him—heel first. He hadn't thought of holding a reception! I said, "The one my mother wants to have at her home."

"Can she fit that many people?"

I remembered what Mum had said when one of her mahjong friends held her daughter's wedding reception at home. "Hire companies offer marquees that join onto the side of the house. They offer flooring, lighting, heating, tables, chairs—even a dance floor."

"A dance floor?" Lisa's expression had swung from doubting to hopeful.

Morty looked uneasy. "How many Galleons is this going to run?"

I imagined snatching up a file folder and using it to smack him upside the head. The skinflint had better be splashing out on a luxurious honeymoon. "None of your business," I said. "It's Mum's gift to you."

I could almost see my uncle’s ears perk up. It was uncanny how much he looked like Sirius at that moment. "Nice gift," he said, grinning.

"Too nice," Lisa said. "We—"

"—will accept it, because who knows when Mum will get another chance to hold a reception, and she really wants to do this for her only brother."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Morty smirk his approval of using emotional blackmail to get my way.

Lisa bit her lip. "Are you sure?"

I pretended confidence. "Talk to your parents. Make a list of family and friends. I'll have my mum owl your mum. They can get together and send out invitations tomorrow."

I shot a prompting glare at Morty.

He immediately went to Lisa and wrapped his arms around her. "Sound good, love?"

She smiled. "It would be lovely to spend Christmas somewhere warm."

Morty huffed. "What about being my wife?"

"That would be the loveliest thing of all."

I backed away. "I'll go give Mum the good news."

Morty had the nerve to wink at me. "Give her my thanks."

If Lisa wasn't living with him, I would break into my uncle's flat and shave his head while he slept. As it was, next April Fool’s day, I would get him good. "I will," I said, turning on my heel.

Bubbles waited for me by the door to the stairs. Her smile and blonde curls gave her an angelic look as she placed something into my hand before tiptoeing back to her desk. I didn't ask if she’d turned off the intercom. She would have acted the same whether she had or not.

On the way upstairs, I unfolded the note and gasped. She had given me the name of a marquee hire company and a single jellybean. I lifted the dark brown sweet reverently. I wanted to eat it right away, but such a bean deserved savouring, so I waited until I was sitting in a chair in my flat to place it into my mouth.

The flavour of chocolate ecstasy was so intense, I closed my eyes, feeling them roll to the back of my head. I sighed and mentally sent a thank you down to Bubbles. Chocolate was a great stress reliever.

 

When I stepped onto the hearth in my parents' house, I called, "Mum, are you home?"

"In the lounge, dear, doing a little dusting."

I found her sitting in a chair, leafing through a magazine with one hand while the other held a wand. A couple of dusters glided over the tables, lamps, and display cabinets. I said, "Mine don't pick up dust like that."

"Are they lambswool?" Mum set aside her magazine. "Lambswool acts as a dust magnet instead of just swishing it about." She frowned thoughtfully. "Or you might be forgetting to make sure your duster is slightly damp, so the dust will cling to it."

"Yeah, probably," I said. Mum found dusting therapeutic, but I was the kind who flicked a duster—chosen for colour—around only when I noticed a surface needed it, or someone wrote “dust me” in the film.

I tried not to fidget as she rose and examined my face closely. "Are you troubled? If there is some way I can help, I will."

I hugged her, blurting, "Will you throw Uncle Morty a wedding reception in the back garden this Saturday? I sort of promised you would."

She patted me on the back. "Unlike the time in nursery school when you promised I would bring a baby brother for your show and tell the following day, I believe this is doable." Mum was quiet for a moment. "I'll confess I have been expecting something like this. My brother was never one for planning...or agreeing to voluntarily spend money." There was a smile in her voice when she said, "Given Lisa's pregnancy, I've been making arrangements, here and there, for a party at short notice. I thought it would be an engagement party, but a reception will work too."

I took the scrap of parchment out of my pocket. "I have the name of a marquee hire company."

"Excellent." She kissed my cheek. "I'll leave a note for your father and we'll be on our way."

 

Fawlty Marquee Hire wasn't an auspicious name, but if Bubbles recommended it, I would trust her. When we stepped out of the office Floo, a tall, thin man reading a leisure magazine with  _Try Torquay_ on the front said without looking up, "Sorry, we're closed, do come back tomorrow." Sotto voice, he added, "Or don't, especially if you ponce in expecting to be waited on hand and foot."

"Basil O'Reilly," my mother said. "Is that any way to greet a fellow Slytherin?"

The wizard dropped the magazine and shot to his feet. "Andromeda Black! Salazar, it's good to see you."

I believed it, the way the man's eyes were visually molesting my mother. I slipped my arm through hers. Mum slid me a cat-like smile of amusement before murmuring, "Thank you, Basil."

The man ran a hand over his receding hairline. "I was just thinking about you the other night." He met my narrow stare and said, "Polly and I were talking about our Hogwarts days." Basil smoothed a finger over his moustache. "I'll always remember that niche behind Simon the Salacious."

My mother arched a dark eyebrow. "How long did it take you to recover from my hex?"

"I still feel the odd twinge now and then."

"How nice to be remembered."

Basil cleared his throat. "How may I be of service?"

Mum smiled. "We need to hire a marquee for a wedding reception. I'll let you know how many tables, chairs, and linens will be needed, but I definitely require wood floors, a black and white dance floor, as well as swags of red to enliven ivory linings, except around the dance floor. Star cloth and faery lights will do best there."

"Impeccable taste as ever," Basil said, reaching down to pick up a calendar. "Is this for your daughter's Spring wedding?" He smiled at me. "Or are you to be a June bride, m'dear?"

"I'm not the bride. This is for a friend." I could feel my cheeks growing hot.

"I'm afraid I need the marquee earlier than Spring, Basil," Mum said.

His brows drew together. "When do you need it?"

"This Saturday."

"Beautiful and mad, she hasn't changed a bit," Basil said to himself.

"The day we left school, didn't you promise that if I ever needed anything, all I had to do was ask?" Mum's tone was a playful warning that seemed to rub her old schoolmate the right way.

"I had something different in mind, but very well, let me ask my wife what's available." He reached down and pressed a button on the desk. "Polly!" he barked. "Is there a marquee available for hire this Saturday?"

A petite blonde-haired woman drifted into the room. She held a floral-covered appointment book in one hand and a pink quill in the other. Behind her left ear, she had tucked a white egret feather. "Only the Fun House, dearie." She looked up and broke into a smile. "Hello, Andromeda. Mrs. Richards told me she plays mahjong with you. I told her to say hello for me. Did she?"

"Yes, and I have to tell you she raved about how wonderful your marquee was."

"Oh, that's nice.”

"Beg pardon," I said, "Are you related to Bubbles Shearman?"

"Course I am. She's my niece."

"What precisely do you mean by Fun House?" Mum asked.

Polly exchanged the pink quill for the white feather and nibbled on the blunt end for a moment. "It's a red, framed marquee that comes with a wall of mirrors and optional tunnel of love or bounce pit for the children."

I stared incredulously when my mother asked, "Could you intersperse ivory linings, seat a hundred or so guests and provide a dance floor?"

Polly chewed on the tip of her feather again. "S'pose so, since the Fun House can become a House of Terror on Halloween, and parents have set up small carnivals inside before."

Mum nodded. "We'll take it."

"What about the mirrors?" I asked. "What bride wants to see herself in a fun house mirror on her wedding day?"

"We'll disengage the mirror's Alteration Charm, don't you worry," said Bubble's aunt. "An odd ghost or two might show up in the mirror to take a peek, but I'll remind them to dress for the occasion in top hats.

I glanced at my mother. She said, "It will be a conversation piece." Mum smiled at the other woman. "What paperwork do I need to fill out?"

As we were leaving, Basil took my mother's hands in his and said softly, "Goodbye, Andromeda."

"Goodbye, Basil. Goodbye, Polly. I can't thank you enough for your help."

"Say hello to Ted for me," Polly said cheerfully.

Once we walked out of the hearth into my parent's lounge, my mother said, "Her mind is as faulty as her maiden name if she thinks I'll do any such thing."

"Bubbles's aunt owns Fawlty Marquee?"

"Who else? The name doesn't exactly inspire trust, now does it?"

Whoa, that sounded snarky. The petite Polly had triggered her Black streak. I said, "Did those two try to break up you and Dad or something?"

"Let's have tea," Mum said, marching into the kitchen. She crumpled up the note she had left on a counter and flicked her wand to put on the kettle.

I waited until she sat at the table to ask, "What's the story, Mum? You seem really upset."

Her teacup made a rattling sound when she plunked it back onto the saucer. "I am not upset, I am merely...chagrined...to remember an embarrassing episode in my past."

I laughed. "I've got loads, and I live with the memories just fine. Tell me about it. I bet it's not so bad."

She broke off the head of a ginger newt from the centre plate and began crumbling it between her fingers. "There's not much to tell. Your father was in Hufflepuff House. I was in Slytherin. Our paths crossed on occasion."

"Did he stare at you in the Great Hall?" I waggled my eyebrows.

"Perhaps." Her lips curved smugly and then straightened into a thin line. "Seventh year, I noticed one of his housemates started clinging to his side."

"Polly?"

"Her friend, Mary Sullivan."

"Oh," I said. "Then what happened?"

"A couple of days before the first Hogsmeade weekend, I walked up to him and said the words that make me cringe to this day."

I picked up the headless newt and took a bite. "What d'you say?"

Mum broke off the tail of another ginger newt. "I said, "Hey, you, I don't like your girlfriend."

I drank a sip of tea to hide a smile. "What did he say to that?"

"Nothing. He stared as if he had no clue what I was going on about, and then he said he didn’t have a girlfriend at the same moment I told him he needed a new one."

I clapped my hand over my mouth. "Did you tell him you wanted to be his girlfriend?"

"I know you're laughing behind your fingers, so you may as well do it openly," Mum said dryly. After I dropped my hand to grin, she smirked. "No, I kissed him and then ran off. He followed, I invited him to go with me to Hogsmeade, and the rest is history."

Her story brought my own memories to life. I had done a snog and run on Remus. He’d followed me, the second time we met, and the rest was history. I offered Mum the last newt, proud to be like her.

 

The wedding may have been hasty, but that didn't mean Lisa's friends were going to allow her to miss out on a hen party. While Morty spent the evening with his mates playing poker, the bride-to-be, two of her cousins, Cami and I started our Friday night at the Siren Spa.

We weren't the typical bridal party, but I was sure that we enjoyed the pampering as much as a traditional group. Between the herbal wrap and a massage, we sipped on champagne and nibbled on appetizers ranging from tiny potato croquettes and Thai crab spring rolls to Yakitori, boneless bites of chicken marinated with garlic and ginger. I almost asked for a Chinese or Thai beer, but I didn't want to mar the posh ambiance.

After we were all gorgeous, Lisa asked if anyone wanted to go out for dinner.

Cousin May made a face. "No! I ate too many prawn rolls."

I pressed a hand against my stomach. "Me too."

Lisa's younger cousin Ichigo said, "Let's find a pub!"

"It's tradition," Cami said, when Lisa appeared ready to veto the idea. "There are plenty of non-alcoholic beverages, if that's what concerns you.”

Lisa smiled. "All right, but I'm not dancing."

Two hours later, we were all on the dance floor. I felt like I could dance until dawn, but the bride-to-be was looking sleepy. I worked my way over, took Lisa's hand in mine, and gave her a twirl. "Ready to call it a night?"

She nodded. "I think I've rocked the baby to sleep."

Next to us, May said, "I can't wait to rock your baby!"

Ichigo, two years older than me and twice the drinker, cried, "Babies are so sweet!" She started tearing up. "Why can't I have a baby?"

May patted her back. "Because you don't have a partner or a steady job, and your mother would kill you."

"Oh." Ichigo turned to Lisa and threw her arms around her. "Will you let me mind your baby sometime?"

"If you promise not to drink on duty," Lisa said with a giggle.

We all laughed and headed for the door.

 

Back at my flat, I found Remus stretched out on the sofa, reading a book. I smiled happily at him while shrugging off my coat. "Poker party over?"

He chuckled. "Morty was on edge the whole time, watching the clock, prepared to blame you if the mother of his child was exposed to cigarette smoke or alcohol."

I laughed while stepping out of my shoes. "Everything's my fault, huh?" My silk halter-top wrapped around and tied at the back. It took a little manoeuvring to undo the tie. "Lisa may have been exposed to alcohol, but she didn't drink any."

Remus set aside his book to assist me with the zipper of my skirt. "Some fabric was caught," he said, as the material slid down.

I turned into his arms, batting my eyelashes. "Oh, kind sir, how can I ever repay you?"

Our kiss rivalled chocolate ecstasy in impact, but didn't alleviate the tension I felt. The press of his lips and the glide of his tongue increased it. I leaned into his body, thinking we would fit together even more perfectly if Remus would take off his clothes. I tried to move nearer. "Are you going to take advantage of your inebriated partner?"

His hands gently gripped my hips, shifting me closer. He brushed his mouth across mine before parting my lips in a slow, deep kiss. With eyes closed, I could feel as well as hear his smile. "You aren't inebriated."

The texture of his trousers rasped nicely against my skin as I crooked my leg around his knee. "I'm drunk with love."

He lifted my leg to his hip. "You are  _praeceptor amoris_ , the teacher of love."

Merlin, I loved it when he spoke Latin! "You're my  _praeceptor,"_ I said, "so why don't we have a teachers' conference?" I winked. "Explore our curriculum?"

Remus barked with laughter and carried me into the bedroom.

 

On Lisa and Morty’s wedding day, happy tears slid down my face while I watched them exchange vows.

I grew misty-eyed again at the reception when I stood to give a toast. Lisa, in her silk brocade dress robes embellished with scenes of flowers, was a beautiful bride. I told her so, and said, "I knew Morty was in love when he followed you on a marital enquiry and got banned from the pub."

"You mean slag duty?" she asked laughingly.

I turned to my uncle. "I knew she was head over heels when I called you tight-fisted and she said you were  _thrifty."_

Morty said, "I am thrifty!"

Laughter erupted from the tables where my uncle’s cronies sat. They called him a skinflint and a Scrooge while he grinned.

When I glanced over at my mother, I noticed a little smile playing about her lips.

I raised my glass. After the marquee became quiet, I fought to keep my composure while I said the words to a toast I meant with all my heart.

**"Love, be true to her. Life, be dear to her.**

**Health, stay close to her. Joy, draw near to her.**

**Fortune, find what you can do for her,**

**Search your treasure-house through and through for her,**

**Follow her footsteps the wide world over—**

**And keep her husband always her lover."**

 

After the toasts were said and the cake was cut, the guests followed the bride and groom to the dance floor to watch them have their first dance together as a married couple. I glanced sideways at Remus, thinking he looked elegant and sexy in his dress robes. I was aware, from the way he murmured, “You're breathtaking,” earlier, and the gleam in his eye now, that he appreciated the way I looked in mine.

On the way to the back of the marquee where the linings looked like stars held suspended in the night sky, we passed the Fun House mirror. My appearance didn't alter, but two ghosts appeared in the reflective surface. One was tall, and the other short, but both wore top hats. They smiled at me and swept off their hats to bow.

I placed my hands at my sides, holding out my skirts while I swept one foot behind the other, bending my back leg at the knee. I inclined my head and shoulders slightly forward, sinking and rising in a curtsey that made the ghosts beam.

Remus was smiling, too, as we watched the Lisa and Morty circle the floor.

I knew he thought I acted out of the kindness of my heart and not politeness, but I wasn't going to argue over it.

After the bride danced with her father, other couples began to dance. Remus led me to a secluded corner and drew me into his arms. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, swaying to the music.

At the back of my mind, a picture formed of a tropical night with a pink-haired bride dancing with her husband. I could almost hear the lapping of the waves and the rustle of palms. My toes curled, as if feeling the sand, cool and soft beneath my bare feet.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I was having fun using bits from the British comedy Fawlty Towers this week. Part of the “ponce in” is a quote, and the names are mixed up for fun (and because it's homage, not a crossover).
> 
> The Andromeda and Ted story inspired by the song by Avril Lavigne is now a one shot if anyone hasn't already read **Hey, You! I Don't Like Your Girlfriend!**
> 
> I was tempted to shift gears and end the chap with a cliffie, but like a guest at a fabulous wedding reception, I found myself wanting to dance my way to the end and leave with a smile. Tonks's toast is from Anna Lewis's _To the Bride._


	25. Shadow of the Snake

 

 

The day after the wedding, Remus and I brought Snuffles with us to visit the Patils.

Samy and Aashi were ecstatic to see their magic dog, but their grandmother seemed alarmed. It was hard to tell whether Mrs. Bharadwaj was afraid of large dogs, or if she worried he would overturn the photographs, vases, and statues placed on low tables. The woman sat on the edge of her chair the entire time we chatted in the lounge.

Short and slim, Ambika's mother coiled her silver-threaded hair in a bun, reminding me of my mum with her impeccable posture. She didn't smile much, though. I hoped for the children's sake that she was just nervous about Snuffles.

We ate in the dining room that I would have loved just for the cobalt blue walls. Instead of a table and chairs, there was a floor-level seating arrangement. Three soft, thick mattresses placed against walls supported the sitters. Scattered across silk fabric was an assortment of colourful cushions in an array of shapes and sizes. I admired a rust and gold embroidered cushion and made a mental note to ask Ambika where she shopped. A sea-green cushion encrusted with tiny sequins would be a wonderful Christmas present for my Gran.

Mrs. Bharadwaj's eyebrows climbed to her hairline when her daughter set a dish of Chicken Korma on the floor for Snuffles.

I said, "He likes curry, as long as it's mild, and when it's topped with ground cashews and cream, well, you can see he's a happy dog."

The woman didn't blink for so long, I wondered if we were in a staring contest. I could have looked away, but she started it, and I wasn't in the mood to back down. I sat up straight. Not since seventh year—when Charlie Weasley heard I was unbeatable and kept making me prove it—had someone challenged my supremacy in staring.

She tapped her foot in a technique I had never seen before, but like Charlie before her, it wasn't long before Mrs. B started looking watery-eyed. My eyes remained dry.

"Look, Tonks is swaying," said Samy.

Aashi clapped her hands. "Is she a  _naga_  princess,  _Naanii_? Are you charming her?"

The woman threw me an apologetic glance before smiling at her granddaughter. "No,  _naatin_ , we were having a staring match, much like you and Samy did this morning, but if she were  _nagi_ , I'm sure Miss Tonks would bring rain and not floods."

That was nice of her to say. Even my own mother would probably predict that if I were a nature spirit, she'd brace herself for natural disasters. I couldn't blame her, even though it wasn't as if I  _meant_ to overflow the tub that summer after sixth year. I had started a bath, returned to my room to pick up a romance novel, and ended up reading it on the bed while water rose and then fell to spill onto the floor and down the stairs.

After dinner, Ambika's mother refused to allow a guest to help in the kitchen, so I volunteered to play with the kids and Snuffles in the back garden while the men discussed the latest  _Daily Prophet_  articles. Samy grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door when his father nodded in agreement. "Yes, you must be the naga princess in her human form!"

Outside, I grinned at the two who had bright eyes and rosy cheeks. "What do I do?"

Aashi touched her forehead. "You must have a precious gem that gives you magical powers."

I concentrated on morphing a ruby-shaped dot.

"That looks like an ordinary  _bindi!_ " Samy said disgustedly.

Snuffles woofed his agreement.

I increased the size and changed the colour to emerald green. "Best I can do."

The boy nodded grudgingly.

The dog made a snorting sound.

I put my hands on my hips. "Hey, furball, if I could conjure jewels, do you think I'd work for a living?"

The children giggled.

Aashi tugged on my cloak. "You need long hair," she said, "and darker skin."

I crouched down and matched the length of my hair and the shade of my skin to hers. "How about this gorgeous combination?"

She beamed.

"Can you make snake eyes?" asked Samy.

"Non-poisonous," I said. "They're the ones with round pupils." I concentrated to make my eyes mostly black with a rim of gold. "How's that?"

_"Cool,"_ the twins said together. They looked at the dog.

He gave a regal nod of approval.

The children grinned happily.

I bowed. "OK, mates, what are we playing?"

"Hide and seek," said Samy.

"No!" cried Aashi. "The naga princess in love!"

The great black dog lowered his head and placed his paws over his eyes.

"Hah!" Samy crowed. "Snuffles doesn't want to play your silly love game!"

I saw a fight brewing and tried to head it off. "I need Remus for that, sweetie, so let's play hide and seek for now, all right?" I covered my eyes with my palms. "I'm counting to one hundred, and whoever I find gets snatched away to Nagaland!"

Aashi said in a stage whisper, "No. Say you will take your captive to the  _naga-loka_  underworld!"

I swallowed a laugh to obey the pint-sized perfectionist. "To the  _naga-loka_  underworld you'll go if I catch you, children—and your big dog, too!"

My cousin, the ham, gave a theatrical yelp.

The children shrieked in pretended horror.

I sniggered and began counting aloud, "One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven..." By the time that I said, “Ready or not,” the garden was quiet. I used a Sonorous Charm to project my voice. "Ssso," I said, heavy on the sibilance. "Who isss first to be found?"

A tiny squeak came from behind dense shrubbery near the back fence. I smirked. That would be Aashi. I decided to let her remain hidden while I picked off the other two. Slowly, I crept around the back of the garden shed. There was no sign of boy or beast. I headed for the shrubbery near the house. As I passed the front of the shed, the door burst open and a dark blur knocked me off my feet.

"We got her, we got her! The  _nagi_ is our prisoner!" Samy jumped up and down while Snuffles draped his legs over me in a show of canine dominance.

Aashi ran out of her hiding spot. "You let her go right now!"

"Yeah," I said. "Let me go."

Samy, into the game, said, "No! You were going to steal us away!"

I dropped back into character. "I'm sssorry. I only wanted sssomeone to play with."

"I'll play with you," said another voice—adult, masculine, and amused. It was Remus.

I tilted my head back to see his face. "Kind sssir," I said. "Release me, and I will ssshow you the pleasure gardensss of my kingdom."

"Will we gather rosebuds?"

I had to look away or laugh.

Aashi cried, "Say yes!"

I smiled at the girl. "Yesss."

She ran over and wrapped her arms around Snuffles's neck, tugging him off me. "Let her up! You'll ruin the game if the naga princess doesn't kiss the kind human and fall in love!"

"Hey," said Samy. "Snuffles and I don't want to play a silly love game!"

Remus helped me to my feet and then ruffled the boy's hair. "Someday," he said, "You might not find it so silly."

I sighed when he kissed me softly.

"You're swaying again!" Aashi said, giggling.

"I like to dance." I raised my hands as if to raise the roof and pumped my shoulders up and down in the only basic Indian move I knew.

"I like to dance too!" the girl cried. Arms down, she began moving her shoulders and alternating tapping her right heel left and her left heel right in a fast-paced rhythm I immediately copied.

Samy joined in, clapping his hands to the beat. " _Balle! Balle!_ "

"Hooray, hooray!" Aashi echoed in English.

"Hey, hey, hey,  _Bhangra_  in the back garden!" Ambika called laughingly, as she, Neil, and her mother joined us. She held up her arm and twisted her hand in a move that reminded me of my cousin, screwing in a Muggle illumination bulb. "Are we at a wedding?" she joked.

Samy scrunched up his face. "No! Snuffles and I don't want to play wedding!" He darted over to the other side of the garden and picked up a ball. "Come on, boy!"

While the dog trotted over to play fetch, Aashi's lips began to quiver. "I wanted to be a dancer at the naga princess' wedding!"

"We'll play that some other time." To cheer her, I morphed my hair bright orange and frizzy. "What do you think? Should I wear my hair like this for my groom?"

"You look like a clown." Aashi smiled a little.

I transformed my hair to blonde waves that reached my knees. "How about this?"

"No." She giggled. "But I want to brush it!"

Ambika watched her daughter rush back into the house. "I came out to say tea is ready." She shook her head as she turned to me. "A glass of wine might be better for your health, though."

Mrs. Bharadwaj frowned. "Whatever good wine can do is accomplished ten times better with a glass of water and a piece of fruit." Abruptly, she smiled. "I would add 'exercise,' but you have had plenty of that!"

"I enjoy playing with the children."

Aashi returned waving her pink brush. "Tonks! Come in and play beauty shop!"

A gleam lit the older woman's black eyes. "I'm glad you enjoy it," she said as we walked back to the house, "because snakes lay many eggs."

 

Wednesday evening, when Remus and I got back from having dinner at a small Italian restaurant, we found Sirius in the kitchen, opening a bottle of beer. "Don't you have one of your werewolf meetings to go to, Moony?"

"Not for a little while yet," said Remus, a faint line creasing his brow as he watched his friend.

I could tell that my love wondered how many beers Sirius had opened while we were gone. To lighten the atmosphere, I held up a takeaway box. "Are you hungry? We brought you lasagne."

Sirius watched me plate the food and set it on the table with an expression that was hard to read. "What? No chips?"

"We didn't go to a pub," I said with a determined smile.

My cousin sat and began to eat. "I wish I could go to a pub," he said between bites. "I wouldn't care if the drinks were watered down and the food was crap."

Remus shot me a concerned look. "Perhaps another flagon of Polyjuice."

" _No_." Sirius pushed his plate away and stood. "I don't want to be you, quiet and polite. I want to take Cami dancing, sing along if I feel like it, and be  _me."_

"Did Cami have to work tonight?" I asked. "Is that why you're in this mood?"

"She's on overnight surveillance," he said shortly, "and what do you mean by  _mood?"_

My eyes flew to Remus. He gave a slight shake of his head, a warning not to argue with a drunk.

I kept my tone light. "Let's just say you're not your usual charming self."

Sirius snorted.

I turned to Remus. "Help me find a book on snakes before you go?"

"Of course."

Sirius drained the beer and set it down on the table with a thud. "Got you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she, mate?"

I left the kitchen before I gave Sirius the fight he was spoiling for. Remus followed. Upstairs in the library, he pulled me into his arms. "Don't be angry with him, love. He's miserable trapped in this house."

I wrapped my arms around his waist. "I know he is." I sighed. "I still want to hex him."

Remus brushed a kiss across my hair. "Perhaps a  _Rictusempra_ would do him good, at that."

"Laughter is the best medicine?"

"Since the other is currently doing surveillance."

I hugged him, wanting to burrow into his solid warmth.

I felt Remus's chest shake with silent amusement. "If you wriggle any closer," he said, "I'll be looking for something in the library, but it won't be a book."

My body arched. His head bent. Our lips met in a kiss that made me wish I could wind myself around him like a snake.

His hands slowly caressed my back, smoothing down the fabric until he reached the base of my spine and slipped lower. My fingers clutched his shoulders when his flexed and kneaded.

"Nymphadora," he said on a groan.

I slid my leg up his. "I know," I said, "I should have worn a skirt."

He smiled against my lips. "If you had, I would be late to the meeting."

I let my leg drop to the floor, even while I said, "Punctuality is over-rated."

His smile became wolfish. "I'm tempted to agree, and yet I must go."

I snuck a last kiss. "When you get back, I'll probably be napping on the sofa over there, having nightmares about snake attacks."

Remus huffed with amusement. "Snakes avoid people. We're too big to eat and big enough to eat them."

"Do they avoid wolves?"

"Yes."

I winked. "Then I'll have a different kind of dream, about the snake maiden and her kind human."

He backed away. "I'll look forward to hearing about it."

I held up a hand, twisting my wrist while I shook my hips.

 

After Remus left, chuckling, I scanned the shelves until I found a section that looked to be children’s resource materials. Encylopaedias of Spells and Herbs were grouped with books on the natural world. I found a text on reptiles and amphibians and took it over to the sofa.

I was curled up, wishing I had a fluffy blanket or Remus there to take advantage of the wide cushions, when Sirius entered the library, bottle in hand.

"What'cha readin'?"

I showed him the cover.

He squinted as he padded forward. "S-snakes is it?" Sirius sprawled on the other end of the sofa and took a drink. "That was my book."

"I would never have guessed by the Regulus caption beneath a dead snake and Sirius written above the mongoose holding it."

My cousin's lips turned down. "And now he's dead, the Slytherin snake." He held up the beer. "To Reggie, wherever you are...I told you so, you arrogant little asp." Sirius drained the bottle and threw it across the room. He laughed shortly when the glass hit the carpet and rolled to a stop against a bookcase. "It was s'posed to break. My grand gesture ruined." His lips twisted. "Along with the rest of my life."

"Your life isn't ruined." I put the book aside and reached out to touch his arm. "You have people who love you and believe in you—who  _need_ you."

A corner of his mouth tugged up. "Doesn' seem like it, when I'm rattling around here like a ghost who hasn' figured out he's dead."

I dug my nails into his forearm. "Don't say that!"

A strange look crossed his face as he stared at my hand. "Mother used to do that." Sirius's gaze turned inward. "Never play hide and seek in a shop again," he whispered. "Mother couldn’t find you, and now she is very, very upset." He focused on me with a crooked smile. "Are you going to hex me too?"

Overwhelmed with pity and guilt for wanting to hex him earlier, I pulled him into a hug. "Even if I think about it, I won't do it," I muttered.

"Then you're not a true Black."

"No, I'm a Tonks and proud of it!"

"So you should be." The words were muffled against my shoulder.

I ran a hand over his hair and then realised I was treating him like I would Snuffles. I almost sniggered at the thought that he would probably smell better as a dog. Currently, Sirius reminded me of Mundungus. He had that same unwashed, alcohol-seeping-through-pores odour. That gave me an idea. "Why don't you transform and keep me company? I haven't had a cuddle with my favourite dog since he used to attend my tea parties."

I felt him shake with laughter. "Think Remus wouldn' like coming home to find me getting a little comfort in human form?"

I tugged his hair for being cheeky. "If I saw Cami like this with Remus, I'd drag her off the sofa by her hair and then kick her arse Muggle-style. What about you?"

"I'd kick Remus's arse."

I yanked a strand of his hair again, but the gesture was affectionate. "Git."

Sirius's arms tightened. "I hate being alone," he said thickly.

I patted his back, feeling maternal and oddly weepy. I sniffed. "Get furry, and I'll massage the spot at the base of your neck that makes you rumble contentedly when Cami does it."

"Be gentle with me," he said with a hint of his usual mischeviousness, before transforming into his Animagus form. He stood next to the sofa, resting his head on my knee.

I leaned down to rub the spot above his spinal column between his ears, his temples, down the side his neck and along the sides of his body, making little circles with my fingers or stroking softly, depending on the area. It was very relaxing. After my eyes grew heavy, I swung my legs up onto the sofa and got comfortable, patting the cushion beside me. "Let's take a nap."

When Snuffles clambered up, I turned on my side to give him room and trailed my hand down his back. I fell asleep smiling to hear throaty rumbles.

 

I awoke to the sound of someone clearing his throat. I raised my head, but there was no one in the library.

"You know," said a man's voice, "while many a Black has slept with his cousin, I believe this is the first time one was a dog while doing it."

I shook Snuffles's shoulder. "Wake up and transform!"

The dog blinked at me and then became a man. "What's going on?" he asked, sitting up to rub a hand across the stubble on his face.

"How the mighty House of Black has fallen," the unknown voice said in a sneering tone.

I realised the source was an oil painting depicting the ruins of a castle. Propping a green-robed shoulder against a crumbling wall was the figure of a man with a pointed beard and thin, clever features.

Sirius growled. "My great-great-grandfather," he told me. "The most unpopular Headmaster in Hogwarts history. Since his portrait hangs in this house, he mistakenly believes he's welcome in any painting." He stood. "Go back to snogging the Fat Lady, Phineas. Nobody wants to hear you go on about the youth of today."

"Dawn and I are merely acquaintances who enjoy the same landscapes," the man said sharply. Lips thinning in irritation, he said, "I am not here to watch you carry on family traditions. I bear a message from Dumbledore."

Sirius prowled toward the painting. "Spit it out!"

Phineas shrank back, a faint look of apprehension crossing his features. "Very well. The Weasley family and Harry Potter will be arriving here shortly. Arthur is gravely injured."

"What happened?" Sirius demanded.

"Oh, no," said Phineas. "I was only instructed to impart a message. I shall return and tell Dumbledore you will be delighted to play host." He bowed mockingly and vanished.

" _Delighted?_ " I repeated numbly. "How could he—"

"Because it's true," said Sirius, already heading toward the door. "I'm not happy that Arthur's hurt, but I have been waiting for the chance to  _do_ something." He paused in the doorway to say, "And I am delighted to take it."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, maybe most people wouldn't think to segue into Arthur-gets-bit-by-the-giant-snake with the Patils, nagas, and a dance called Bhangra, but diversity is a good thing, and I hope readers enjoyed the lighter moments before the darker bits. 
> 
> The scene with Phineas was inspired by his antics in OotP, chapter twenty-two. Jo has said about portraits that they are not as fully realised as ghosts, and that while they leave behind a faint imprint and while they can give some counsel...it is not like being a ghost (That means Sirius was being snide about Phineas snogging the Fat Lady.)


	26. Holiday in Shadow

 

I fell asleep.

I didn't mean to. I’d fully intended to wait up until either Remus returned or Sirius came upstairs to let me know what had happened to Arthur. After an extended period of pacing the floor and a futile attempt to read a book, however, I decided to lie down. Every fibre of my body felt tense.

I dimmed the illumination orbs to a soft glow and did such a good job of relaxing my muscles that I drifted off to sleep. I awoke when I felt the bed dip and Remus's lips brushed my forehead. "Hey, baby," I said. "Did Sirius tell you about Arthur?"

"No," he said softly. "Dumbledore told me about the attack and Arthur's treatment at St. Mungo's. His condition is critical, but stable." He caressed my cheek. "That's where I've been, keeping watch outside his room to rule out a personal assault."

My brain was still muzzy from sleep. "You must be knackered. Did you send a Patronus or go to Hogwarts?" I began sifting my fingers through his hair. Remus once said it was soothing, and I loved the contrast in texture between the silky brown and coarser grey strands.

His expression shadowed. "I went to Hogwarts. What I learned at the meeting tonight had to be reported immediately."

I shivered in apprehension. "What did you learn?"

Remus turned away from me to unbutton his shirt. "I positioned myself near those who openly support Greyback. The one who calls himself  _Skoll_ was there."

"Who's he?"

Head bowed, Remus said, "A man I could have become, if stolen away and raised by Greyback." His voice became a low rasp. "In Norse mythology, Skoll is Fenrir's son."

"I'm sure he's a charmer," I said with deliberate breeziness. "What did he say?"

"If 'domesticated' wolves will not pledge themselves, their reward will be given to the  _others_ who are almost united in their support."

Others was the term used to classify werewolves who lived apart from the Wizarding world in a scattered, underground pack society. "Almost," I said. "There's still hope, then."

"You sound like Dumbledore." He shrugged off his shirt and bent to remove his shoes and socks.

I drew my tee up and off, pressing my chest to his back. "Except sexier."

Remus huffed with amusement. "Infinitely sexier."

When the silence lengthened, I bent to kiss the nape of his neck. "Can you tell me what Dumbledore said?"

"He wants me to verify Skoll's claim."

I placed my hands on either side of Remus’s spine at his waist and smoothed upward. His body was stiff with tension. I massaged his shoulders, circling the muscles at the top with my fingers. As I stroked down, I asked, "Want some help?"

Remus shifted to face me. "These people live outside the law."

"Remember Rory Farrell and his uncle Colin? I'm not Law Enforcement. I only arrest Dark wizards, love."

He smiled slightly. "Even so, an Auror partner—"

"—enquiry agent." I winked. "It isn't a lie."

"No," he said thoughtfully. "It isn't." His brow creased. "Still...."

"I won't interfere, just help you track them down." I waggled my eyebrows. "I know people who know people, if you know what I mean."

Remus's smile widened. "I'm afraid I do."

"Funny, you don't sound afraid."

His expression abruptly sobered. "Arthur must have been terrified."

My jaw dropped when he related how Harry had seen a giant snake attack, and that his dream had saved Arthur's life. "That must have been traumatic! How are Harry and the other children holding up?"

"I don't know. I entered the house through the attic on my return." He answered my questioning look with a half-smile. "I didn't want to intrude."

"How could you—"

"I'm not family," Remus said. His lips twisted. "As much as I wish it were otherwise, I’m not an honorary uncle. Not to the Weasley children and certainly not to Harry." His voice held a trace of bitterness. "Petunia and Vernon denied me the opportunity to spend time with Harry as a child, and now he is a young man who views me as Professor Lupin." He shrugged a shoulder. "He may also see me as Moony, a friend of his father and godfather, but not Remus to Padfoot's Sirius."

I almost toppled us off the bed by throwing my arms around him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. Harry's welfare is all that matters."

I angled my head to reach his lips with mine. "Your happiness matters," I said between kisses.

I ached with longing to comfort, to make him happy with my love. I tugged him down to lie atop me, exploring his mouth in the way I wanted to make love to his body, with tender sensuality. I parted my lips to invite him to deepen the kiss, trying to show without words that I would joyfully give him anything he wanted. Remus shifted closer, the weight of his body as arousing as his hungry kisses. I swirled my tongue and used my hands to encourage him to forget about everything except us.

His fingertips traced my curves and then unfastened my trousers. The tiny snick of the zipper was clearly audible in a room where the only sounds had been those of passionate kisses. I caught my breath and released it on a sigh. "I used to think you smelled good before, but now, just being close to you drives me crazy." I moved restlessly. "I want you."

He rolled onto his back and pulled me into his arms. "Have me."

 

I took what he offered with such fervour, I didn't awake until I heard a knock on the door hours later. Even then, I scrunched my eyes against the sunlight filtering through grimy windows and scooted closer to Remus instead of rising. "It's for you," I mumbled.

He chuckled and pulled the covers over me before leaving the bed to pull on a robe. I stretched my arms over my head while he opened the door. "How's Arthur?" Remus asked.

"He'll be all right. Molly and the children will stay here while he's in hospital." I could hear the grin in Sirius's voice as he said, "You'll have to share the coffee, cousin. Be a bit awkward explaining why Moony needed  _two_ mugs."

"Haven't we been through this before?" I asked. "You should've brought the coffeepot. I would've conjured mugs."

Sirius was unshaven and sported purple shadows beneath his eyes, but his delight at having company transformed his countenance and made him look like a different man than the one who had clung to me the night before. I was thrilled.

He strolled over and set the mug on the bedside table. "Here. You can fight him for it." Sniggering, he said, "Stay starkers and I guarantee you'll win."

I chucked a pillow at him. He said, "Careful, cousin. You never know when Phineas Nigellus might pay another visit." Sirius jerked his head toward a painting of what looked like a bowl of rotting fruit.

I hastily pulled the covers up to my chin.

My cousin roared with laughter. "That's a still life, dafty! He can only transport into another portrait or a landscape!" He was still shaking his head over my ignorance when he said, "Dumbledore sent word that you and Mad-Eye are to accompany the Weasleys to visit Arthur directly after lunch."

After he left with a jaunty wave, I reached for the mug and asked Remus with a lift of my eyebrow if he minded that I drink it all.

Remus said, "Go ahead. I'll probably go back to sleep, so I don't need the caffeine." He looked at me curiously. "You were with Sirius when Phineas broke the news?"

I drained the mug and set it aside. "Yeah, in the library. He didn't want to be alone, and I figured a dog would protect me against—" I bit my lip, stricken.

"Snake attack?" Remus sat on the bed and gently enfolded me in his arms. "Sitting outside Arthur's room, I couldn't help but imagine my feelings if you had been in his place." He held me almost painfully tight. "I was guiltily grateful you weren't on Duty."

"That's only natural." I tried to lighten the mood by saying cheekily, "So was celebrating lifeafterwards."

A slow smile was my reward. "Is that what we were doing? Celebrating?"

"Like a couple of party animals."

He gave a bark of laughter.

There was a short rap on the door before Sirius stuck his head in the room. "I talked to Mad-Eye in a communication fire. He's expecting you at his place for lunch, Tonks, to go over the mission."

I snorted. "We're escorting a group to the hospital, not planning a raid."

"I dare you to tell him that."

"I will." For emphasis, I stuck out the tip of my tongue.

Sirius stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes before shutting the door.

"Always has to have the last word, doesn't he?" I said crossly.

Remus smiled. "Must be a Black family trait."

I narrowed my eyes. "Are you implying something, Professor?" When he chuckled, I pinned him to the bed and snogged him senseless.

 

Approaching Moody's place later, I noticed a group of boys kicking a football around the green across the street. While I stood on the pavement to announce my presence and ensure I wouldn't fall victim to a security spell, I glanced back at the boys.

One was staring at me. "Hey, lady! Could you ask the loony gaffer to give us back our football, please?"

I waved. "Sure!"

I turned back to step onto the walk, happy not to find myself stuck in place, or jinxed.

The white door set in brown brick opened. A football came zooming out. I ducked. The boys cheered.

"Next time I won't be giving it back!" Mad-Eye yelled from the doorway. He turned his magical eye on me as though checking for Dark items. With a short nod, he said, "You're late."

I rolled my eyes. "Is lunch ruined?"

His dark eye became a slit. "Cut the sass and get inside."

"Yes, sir, Instructor Moody, sir!"

His lopsided mouth curved in what almost passed as a smile. "The constant cheek is what I don't miss about teaching Aurors."

I strolled inside. "What do you miss?"

Mad-Eye led the way through the narrow lounge into the kitchen. "Knowing that those I taught were taught  _right."_ He shook his head in disgust. "Is Constant Vigilance even a motto anymore?"

"I still say it." I left out that I said it mostly to get a laugh. It was Connelly's fault. He was too easily amused.

Unlike another incorrigible bachelor named Mundungus, Moody wasn't a grotty pack rat. His home was Spartan and tidy. He lumbered over to the oak table and lifted the stasis cover off a baking dish. Tendrils of steam wafted up. "Still hot, thankfully." He reached for a serving spoon and a plate. "Toad-in-the-Hole is no good cold."

I looked at the sausages roasted in Yorkshire pudding-like batter and smirked. "Gee, Mad-Eye, I didn't know you were such a domestic god. Why didn't a lucky witch ever snap you up?"

He plunked my plate down; blue eye whirling for effect, I was sure. "How do you know one didn't?"

I gaped at him while he dished up his own lunch and sat across from me. "You were  _married?"_

Steel-grey hair shook. "Didn't say that." He speared a sausage with his fork and took a big bite. "Considered it a time or two, though."

I used my knife to slice off a piece of meat. "Why didn't you go through with it?"

He didn't answer until he'd cleaned his plate. "One wanted me to give up Auror duty to become a trainer full time." The look of contempt on his face abruptly softened. "The other," he said in a wistful tone, "got sent to Azkaban for being a thief and an illegal Animagus." Mad-Eye rubbed his misshapen nose with a fingertip. "Gave me something to remember her by, the little wildcat."

Caught between wanting to know details and wanting to change the subject before hazy mental images became ones that replayed in nightmares, I was still trying to decide whether to ask the woman's name when he asked me if I was finished eating. "Yes," I said, placing my plate onto his outstretched hand. "Thank you for inviting me."

Mad-Eye began to clear the dishes. "I had a reason," he said. "Before we go to meet the family, I need your opinion." In all seriousness, he asked, "Which would help me blend with Muggles better—a bowler or a fisherman's cap?"

 

The children we escorted to St. Mungo's via the underground shared my amusement over his appearance in a black bowler hat. Harry was the only one who didn't laugh outright. Curious about the boy's experience, I manoeuvred my way into sitting next to him on the train and attempted to ask casually about his vision. He answered in monosyllables that declared the topic closed.

I glanced over at Ginny and smiled, making a silly face without the aid of magic. She giggled, causing me to wish I had chosen to sit by her instead of Harry. I felt awkward around him, always tripping over my feet or my tongue.

When we got off at the station nearest the hospital, I led the way to the red brick storefront that concealed St. Mungo's hospital. When the mannequin crooked her finger for us to enter, I whispered, "ladies first," to Ginny and grabbed her and Molly by the elbows.

Mad-Eye approved my suggestion that we remain outside while the others had the first visit. When we stood alone in the corridor, he said, "Smart thinking. You-Know-Who could be using Arthur to get to Harry."

My only consideration had been the family's feelings. I wasn't about to admit it and earn a disapproving scowl, so I smiled modestly. I looked away, only to do a double take. My boss had entered the corridor with a wizard in lime-green robes, talking in a low tone. I heard “Blood-Replenishing Potion” before Scrimgeour caught sight of me and said, "Thank you, Healer Smethwyck. I'll leave you to your patients."

"Where are you going?" Mad-Eye demanded when I began to walk toward the stairwell.

"Loo," I threw over my shoulder.

Scrimgeour was waiting for me on the landing. "Why did you follow me? Are you trying to start a new set of rumours?"

I didn't let his imperious manner put me off. "Why were you asking that Healer about Arthur Weasley?"

"Misuse of Muggle Artefacts works in close conjunction with the Auror Office. I've had a nodding acquaintance with Weasley for years. Am I not allowed to show concern?" The look in tawny eyes was as cool as his tone.

"Of course you are. I was—"

"Jumping to conclusions." His expression became wry. "This isn't the first time Alastor Moody has infected others with paranoia."

I raised a shoulder and let it fall. "Just because he's paranoid doesn't mean people aren't out to get him."

Scrimgeour looked at me steadily. "If you get a chance, let Weasley know that the area was searched intensively, but no trace of a giant snake was ever found. Quite mysterious, this whole business, isn't it?"

Unaccountably, I remembered entering the library intending to look for a book on snakes and ending up trying to wind myself around Remus.

Scrimgeour glanced down at his cane. "You will receive an owl from Stevens. I require Lola's company this Friday." His eyes flickered to the door. "What did you tell Moody when you followed me?"

"That I was going to find a loo."

"Simple and plausible. Well done." He turned to leave.

It was none of my business, but I had to ask, "Shouldn't you be taking lifts instead of stairs?"

Scrimgeour continued his descent. "I refuse to be constrained by limitations."

That was something we had in common. I rushed back through the doors to return to Mad-Eye. He gave me a suspicious look, but the children's exit from Arthur's room prevented him from saying anything.

I was relieved to see Ginny smiling. She nodded in response to my unspoken question about her father's condition. I hugged her briefly and then darted inside the ward and shut the door.

While the men discussed the attack, I picked up Arthur's chart and attempted to read the Healer scrawl passing as handwriting. I squinted, closed one eye, and held the parchment at arm's length. I made out “blood” and then gave up. When Mad-Eye paused for breath, I relayed Scrimgeour's message, adding that You-Know-Who couldn't have expected the snake to get in.

It was a toss-up who was more troubled about Harry's vision, Mad-Eye, or Molly, but there was a marked difference in their uneasiness. Molly was openly worried  _for_  Harry, while Mad-Eye seemed more nervous  _about_ him, speculating that he was possessed.

Arthur, Molly, and I unanimously expressed our disagreement. The fact that both Harry and Dumbledore were alive was proof that possession wasn't an issue. Mad-Eye agreed, but I noticed him giving Harry the magic eye on the walk back to the station. Someone else was watching the boy too—Ginny.

I decided to do a little matchmaking. Upon boarding the train, I said, "Hey, Ginny, sit by Harry so I can chat with your charming brothers. I need ideas for an April Fool's Day prank."

She said, "All right," offhandedly, but a hint of pink tinted her cheeks.

I inwardly crossed fingers that I hadn't earned myself a hex by putting her on the spot. On the way home, Fred and George regaled me with tales of mischief managed on their birthday.

Mad-Eye smiled to hear about couple of their more elaborate pranks, but otherwise scanned the compartment as if expecting a Death Eater to burst into the train from the dark tunnel at any moment.

 

A short while later on the pavement in front of number twelve Grimmauld, Ginny hugged me and whispered, "I'll be in the attic," before she followed the others inside.

The instant the group disappeared from sight, Mad-Eye turned to me. "I spoke to Shacklebolt before you arrived at my place. He said the Ministry is hushing up the incident. That means there is no official statement regarding the attack, and the unofficial enquiry team reports directly to Scrimgeour."

My stomach clutched. "So?"

He took a step toward me, voice lowering to a menacing growl. "So where did you get your information? Scrimgeour himself?"

I raised my chin. "Yes."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was no mention in OotP of a Daily Prophet article about the attack, so I took that to mean the incident was hushed up, and took the license to make it Scrimgeour the one who gave Tonks her inside information, and Tonks the reason Mad-Eye wore a Bowler. Remus was conspicuously absent in ch 22, so I gave him a reason to be, and if anyone thinks, “Aha, I bet we'll get to know Skoll and the others in the HBP story,” that bet is right on the money. :D


	27. Shadow of Christmas

 

Mad-Eye's blue eye whirled as though he could see into minds as easily as objects. "Why would the Head of Aurors be telling you anything?" His tone sharpened. "Unless those rumours I heard were true."

"Oh yeah, they're true." Before he could react to my sarcasm, I said, "Who wouldn't cheat on their lover to advance a career?" I fluffed my pink hair like a vamp. "And of course Scrimmy couldn't say no, because I'm so damned irresistible."

His face twisted. " _Scrimmy,_ is it?" He gave a short, grunting laugh. "What's he calling you? Tonksie?"

I smirked. "The last man who did that got  _Scourgified."_

Mad-Eye smiled in a way that would make small children cry. "Was it last spring? That was the one and only time I ever saw Mundungus Fletcher look clean."

"Dung's a manky crook, but I like him anyway." I placed a hand on my hip. "You're a suspicious git, and I like you too."

"Didn't say I believed the rumours," Mad-Eye said gruffly.

"They're partially true," I said, adding quickly, "I have been to his office. I'm working for him on the side as a bodyguard."

His beady eye widened. "You're the blonde in the papers?" When I nodded, his black gaze narrowed. "Why haven't you informed the Order of this?"

"Remus, Sirius, and Kingsley know," I said bluntly, "but I consider enquiry jobs my private business unless I learn something that pertains to the Order."

"Could be what you think doesn't affect the Order, does. I have questions."

"Invite Remus and me over for dinner, and I'll answer them if I can," I said, backing away. "Ginny's waiting for me up in the attic."

Mad-Eye's craggy face softened. "Hard luck, her father in hospital at Christmastime." After a moment, a gleam appeared in his normal eye. "Liked my cooking, did you?"

"Better than my own."

His gash of a mouth twisted in amusement. "I'll send an owl."

I waggled my fingers in farewell.

 

When I climbed into the attic through a window, I found Ginny sitting on a trunk, a wistful look on her face. I sat down and bumped her shoulder with mine. "Thinking deep thoughts?"

"No. Remembering Christmases when I was little and used to wake my family up at four o'clock. I was that keen to open presents." Her smile was off-kilter. "Everyone else groaned or threw pillows, but Dad always acted as if he was just as excited as I was."

I nodded. "My Dad was great like that too. He didn't get up, he got me to scramble into my parents' bed and tell them about every item I had found in my stocking." I laughed. "I think that was his sneaky way of getting a few more minutes of peace before having to go downstairs and watch the floor become a sea of wrapping paper."

Ginny's giggle was watery-sounding. "One Christmas, Dad got the idea to decorate plain white wrapping paper, the way he'd heard some Muggles do." She shook her head. "It was a disaster. Fred and George got paste in everyone's hair, glitter on the Christmas cookies, and made Percy's room more  _festive_  by using paint stamps all over the walls." The corners of her mouth twitched. "Years later, they said the look on Percy's face was a gift that kept on giving every time they remembered it."

"Sounds mad."

"It was fun."

"You'll have fun this year as well."

"Of course she'll have fun," said a merry voice. It was Sirius, striding into the attic. "Fun's my middle name!"

"I thought it was  _trouble._ " I winked at Ginny.

Sirius airily waved his hand. "They're interchangeable."

Ginny giggled. "That's what my brothers think too."

"Those boys remind me of myself at that age, although I was more handsome," Sirius said laughingly, scanning the attic.

"Looking for something?" I asked. "Want some help?"

"No, I think I know where to look." Sirius held out his hand. Two trunks scraped their way across the floor to him.

Ginny and I clapped.

Sirius bowed.

I asked Ginny, "Do you practise any wandless spells in that defence group of yours?"

Brown eyes grew round. "You know about that?"

I looked at Sirius. He glowered at me before telling Ginny, "I may have mentioned something in passing, which was supposed to have been kept  _secret."_

I rolled my eyes. "She's in the club, or whatever they call it. Don't act like I told Scrimgeour."

Ginny looked impressed. "You know the Head of Aurors?"

"A little."

"Not as well as he'd like, I'll bet," Sirius muttered.

"Beg pardon?" said Ginny.

"It's best to ignore him when he rambles incoherently." I shot Sirius a warning look and then asked her, "What about nonverbal spells? If you combine wandless and nonverbal, that's a potent combination."

She shook her head. "Those are for sixth years."

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "Nonsense! They're for anyone with the power of mind to use them."

Ginny looked doubtful.

I said, "In one of your letters, you told me that you were tempted to give someone a Bat Bogey Hex. If you can do that level of casting, you have the ability to perform a nonverbal spell without a wand."

"I don't know—"

"Try it," Sirius said. He walked over and patted a dark green trunk. "Concentrate, and then say  _adaperire_ , throw open, inside your head."

When Ginny's eyes flickered to me, I waved my fingers in exaggerated imitation of my cousin's earlier performance. "Feel free to use hand gestures."

"I'll give you a hand gesture," Sirius said in undertone.

"Stop speaking gibberish.” Ginny still looked unsure, so I smiled encouragingly. "Go on, you can do it."

She nodded sharply and faced the trunk, brow creased, lips pressed together tightly. After a minute, she held up both hands and pushed the air. The trunk lid flew open so forcefully, it banged against the back of the trunk.

Sirius and I cheered while Ginny held out imaginary skirts and curtseyed.

A silvery Patronus in the shape of a beaver scuttled through the wall into the attic.

All three of us groaned.

"Fine," Ginny said, after listening to her mother's message. "I'll be down in a minute." She turned to us with an unhappy expression on her face. "Mum needs me."

Sirius said, "You won't miss much, only sorting through a couple of old trunks of Christmas decorations." When her face fell even further, he said, "Tell you what—I won't bring them downstairs tonight. We'll decorate tomorrow, make a production of it. Cheer everyone up."

 

I gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek when Ginny left the attic. "That was sweet of you."

"Yes, I know."

I elbowed him.

He clutched his side. "Abused for speaking the truth—story of my life."

Sirius was joking, but I felt bad anyway. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "Not your fault I had a miserable childhood." A thoughtful smile crossed his face. "I have a few good memories. Mother assigned Reggie and me the  _chore_ of assisting the staff in decorating for the holidays, and we both enjoyed inventorying the Christmas ornaments." He waggled his brows. "Want to revive a non-scandalous Black family tradition?"

"Sure."

Sirius lifted a scroll and an ostrich quill from the trunk. "Self-inking," he said. "Back when it was rare and expensive, my mother used to keep it out on a table for guests to be properly impressed." He scratched the parchment with the nib and grinned. "I'm impressed it still works." He sat on a nearby crate and waved the feather. "You unpack, I'll inventory."

"I do all the work, you mean."

"We could switch places."

I pretended not to hear him, since I was already lifting an ornament from a layer of tissue. "Isn't it sad that Muggles don't have spells to prevent glass from breaking?" I looked at the 'icicle' in my hand. "We have these too. Mum said they're Victorian, from Germany."

"Yes. According to Father, Headmaster Phineas Nigellus, a former Scrooge, started keeping Christmas and outdid the rest of the elite in buying ornaments from Germany and Russia."

I picked up a trumpet made from twisted glass straws. "They're so pretty."

"Reggie was always partial to musical instruments, but I preferred the ones that resemble things in nature."

I held up a multicoloured glass acorn. "Like this?"

"All right. Like nature except more fanciful."

There were birds, flowers, elephants, and glass baubles in vivid colours. Some had replicas in different sizes. In the second trunk, I lifted out what looked like a cardboard moon embossed with silver leaf.

"That's called a Dresden," my cousin said. "Patterned after the ones made in Germany."

I saw SB printed on the back. "Did you make this?"

"I made mischief, not crafts. That was the Sirius unfortunate enough to have Phineas Nigellus as a father."

I found a gold leaf butterfly. " _BB,"_ I said.

"Belvina."

Another ornament was in the shape of a ship gilded in gold. On the back was written 'PB.' "The Headmaster of Hogwarts made Christmas ornaments? I'm shocked."

"Don't be. I guarantee that belonged to his son Phineas, disowned for supporting Muggle rights."

I lifted a fish embossed with silver leaf. "Who was  _AB_?"

"Arcturus."

I turned over an intricate, silvery rose. " _FB?"_

"No clue. Phineas had a fifth child, but his name was Cygnus. I checked after Mother boxed my ears for asking." He grinned. "I asked Phineas's portrait once, but he only called me a cheeky toerag and stalked out of the frame."

I shrugged. "Maybe it was a friend of the family. Whoever it was, they were very artistic." I set aside the ornament and picked up a tiny replica of a woman's hand mirror. "This is pretty!"

Sirius chuckled. "That was my mother's. I shrank it and hid it among the ornaments to get back at her for confining me to my room over Christmas holiday first year." He held out his hand for the ornament. When I gave it to him, he said, "This reminds me, I need my communication mirrors back. I want to give one to Harry so he'll have a way to contact me at all times."

It felt like the bottom dropped out of my stomach. I had counted on using the mirrors to stay in touch whenever Remus couldn't take me with him on his mission for Dumbledore. What would I do now—buy a pair? "Where did you find yours?" I asked.

"I won them from an ugly witch in a poker game at the Hog's Head, fifth year." He sniggered. "The witch was Mundungus in disguise, since he'd been banned from the pub for only Merlin knows what." His brows drew together. "Are you looking to buy communication mirrors? I have to warn you, they're rare and bloody expensive."

I forced a smile. "Good thing I've been saving my Galleons, then." I had been saving money to purchase Wolfsbane Potion, but with Remus's mission, he wouldn't be able to use it anytime soon. Besides that, Scrimgeour paid extremely well. I could start saving again right away.

Sirius nodded, but the look on his face said he knew how I would earn my money and didn't approve.

I reached into the trunk and brought out an angel with wings of spun glass and a crinkly gold skirt. Her bisque face and golden hair was lovely.

"A Nuremberg angel was the Victorian's prized possession," Sirius said, in a tone that suggested he had learned that bit of information from his mother. "Reggie and I were warned of the severity of our punishment if we dared touch her."

I thrust the angel into his arms. "No one's stopping you now." Out of the urge to wipe the pensive expression off his face, I found a Nutcracker soldier in the bottom of the trunk and moved its mouth. "I must be dead, because I'm talking to an angel."

Sirius snorted. "Heard that line, have you?"

I made the red and gold Nutcracker saunter closer. "I know I don't have a chance, but I just wanted to hear an angel talk."

He gave a short bark of laughter. "When I was a dog, you never made me play dolls. I never appreciated how lucky I was!"

"You're spending Christmas with your godson and a houseful of people who care about you. You are lucky." For an instant, I thought I had put my foot in my mouth. I sighed in relief when he smiled.

"You're right."

I got the giggles.

"What?"

I took extra care when casting a packing spell to send the ornaments back to the trunk. "You said I was right. When we're done, I'm going to get Remus to record that in his journal."

 

The moment I entered Remus's bedroom, I forgot all about his journal. He was lying on his side, facing away from the door, with the sheet pushed down to reveal a bare torso. I stood admiring his body, the way his shoulders tapered down to his waist, before walking over, slipping off shoes and other items of clothing on the way.

I spooned against his back, burrowing close to warm skin while draping an arm over his side. My fingers explored the intriguing differences between a chest area with silken hair and the areas without. I smiled when his hand covered mine. "Did I wake you?"

His voice was husky with sleep. "What time is it?"

I didn't know. I had lost track of time, rummaging through ornaments. "Afternoon."

Remus shifted to face me. In the shadowy room, his smile gleamed white. "Did the hospital visit take longer than you expected, or did you go shopping afterwards?"

"I was helping Sirius inventory Christmas decorations up in the attic."

Beneath my hand, his chest shook. "Inventory? My mother only wrapped ornaments in paper and spells." After a short pause, he added, "But then our ornaments only had sentimental value."

"You saw my handmade disasters last year," I said. "Did you make your mum ornaments too?"

"Yes, but I thought your pink-nosed reindeer was charming."

"When I was eight, Rita said his antlers were so big, in real life he would topple head first into the snow."

Remus rubbed the tip of his nose against mine. "She doesn't know about magic."

"She knew better than to make fun of my ornaments after I dumped eggnog on her head."

He laughed softly. "There's the holiday spirit."

I playfully nipped at his chin. "I want to hear about the ornaments you made."

"All right," he said. "Aside from the usual paper stars, chains and snowflakes, the decorations I remember best were the snowman built out of paper and cotton batting, a holly wreath made out of scraps of green and red felt, and wooden baubles coloured with paint."

"Do you keep any of them?"

"I tried. The box got misplaced during one of my many moves."

"You mean someone nicked it."

"I prefer to give my former landlords the benefit of the doubt."

It took a second to grasp that he had said landlords, plural. "Don't you know which one probably took them?"

Remus's mouth tilted up on one side. "No. I never had a tree, so I never looked for ornaments to decorate it."

"How did you know they were missing, then?"

"A few years ago, I celebrated the holiday with a bottle of wine and decided to dig out my mementos of Christmas past." His tone was wry. "You can guess my reaction to discovering that they were gone."

Oh, Merlin, why had I asked? The mental picture of Remus, drunk and sad, made me want to cry. I kissed him. "Give me the names and I'll go round and have a talk with those landlords. I have a bracelet that grows warm when someone lies. When the thief triggers it, I'll flash my Auror badge and persuade them to give back your box."

He cupped my face with his palm. "I'm sure the box was searched for valuables and then discarded, but thank you for offering." He stroked my cheek. "The bracelet could prove advantageous when dealing with werewolves. How did you acquire such a thing?"

"It's just on loan to me while I work for Scrimgeour."

Remus's gaze was thoughtful. "On loan." A mischievous smile creased his eyes at the corners. "We'll have to be careful to ensure you don't lose it."

There was a quick rap on the door before a  _Sonorous_ projected Sirius's voice from the other side. "Ron says Harry's tired and wants to stay in bed, so I thought if you'd come down to dinner, Moony, and then Tonks happened to knock on the front door, that his absence wouldn't lower everyone's spirits."

I nodded at Remus, who said, "I need to take a quick shower."

"I'll go tell Molly to hold dinner." Sirius's voice was faint, as if he was already heading down the stairs.

I gave Remus a sultry look. "If you'd like to do something else quickly, I'm ready and willing."

He pinned me to the mattress and parted my lips for a deep, unhurried kiss that curled my toes. "I want to wait until we're able to make love exactly like that," he said, smiling at my no-doubt dazed expression.

"M'kay," I said eloquently, waiting until he left the room to roll over and hug his pillow, sighing like a schoolgirl.

At dinner, I did my best to talk to Ginny and keep her mind off worrying about the loved ones who weren’t at the table. The next day, when Harry stayed upstairs instead of joining the rest of us in decorating the house, I could tell it upset Ginny, although she seemed to enjoy hanging garlands and streamers while dodging magic snowballs thrown by Fred and George.

By five o'clock, when I had to return to my flat to get ready to accompany Scrimgeour to a Ministry Christmas function, I was hacked off. When Remus walked me to the front door, I muttered, "It's a good thing for Harry that I have to leave, or I'd march up there and pull him downstairs by his earlobe."

"He's going through a difficult time. Have patience."

I made a face while he opened the door. "Maybe Father Christmas will leave me some in my stocking." I looked over Remus's shoulder to make sure no one was around and then whispered, "Along with some oil and a certificate for a full body massage from my lover." I blew him a kiss and left, grinning over his wolfish smile.

 

The ballroom of the hotel the Ministry chose to hold their Christmas party for the Heads of Office was decked out for the season in rich jewel colours. I admired the decorations, but after an hour of standing beside my boss, smiling warmly at those he greeted in passing, chitchatting with the wives of the men he stopped to converse with, my cheeks were starting to ache. I wondered how real showgirls made it through a show, constantly beaming at the audience.

"Rufus!" called a hearty voice. It was Fudge.

Scrimgeour turned to greet the other man with cool aplomb. "Minister. Mrs. Fudge."

Fudge shook Scrimgeour's hand energetically and then clasped mine in both of his. "Lola, my dear, you look like a Christmas Angel."

I wore sheer gold dress robes over a gold dress. Since I doubted angels showed cleavage, I smiled politely at the compliment and turned to Mrs. Fudge. "You're looking very _...festive."_ All at once, I was reminded Ginny's story of Fred and George making Percy's room festive with Christmas stamps. The green sprigs of holly embossed on the woman's white dress robes looked like something the twins would design. I took a hasty sip of wine to hide a smile and promptly began to cough.

"Are you all right, my dear?" Scrimgeour asked.

My face felt hot, my eyes were watering, and I couldn't stop coughing. I shook my head.

My boss excused us and led me into a corridor off the ballroom. Once we were alone, he conjured a cup of water. I drank it, leaning back against the wall to recover.

"What was that all about?"

His tone was amused, not tense, so I shared the “festive” story. At the end, I sniggered, and then began laughing my head off. While I wiped tears from the corners of my eyes, I met Scrimgeour's gaze. Weirdly, my thoughts changed from a mental image of the twins stamping Mrs. Fudge's dress robes to a vision of me standing before the full-length mirror in my bedroom as Lola, checking to make sure I had morphed my bust to the right size. All I wore was nude-coloured panties.

I looked away, controlling my expression with great effort. What was I supposed to do, ask my boss if he was a Legilimens? If he questioned why I asked, how was I supposed to answer—because you're the only one interested in seeing Lola naked? I hoped that if he was responsible for bringing up the memory, it was a slip, triggered by my laughter shaking what any single and heterosexual man would want to see bared. After all, he could have chosen to see me slipping on those panties before morphing my body into Lola's—but he didn't.

"Lola?"

I met his eyes, putting my theory to the test. If another image that I wouldn't imagine sprang to mind, then Scrimgeour was a Legilimens who had intentionally crossed the line between employer and employee. If that was true, I couldn't work for him privately any more, no matter how much I wanted the Galleons he paid me.

Inappropriate memories didn't pop into my head. It was almost sickening, the relief I felt. Shaming, too, to admit how dependent I was on this job. "I'm fine. Ready to go back whenever you are."

The watchful expression on his face relaxed. He extended his arm. "Shall we?"

Was he testing me, to see if I realised what he had done? Our working relationship would be a lot smoother if he thought I didn't. When I immediately placed my hand in the crook of his arm, he smiled.

 

On Christmas morning, I placed the stocking I’d made for Remus at the end of his bed and then crawled up to kiss his cheek. "Happy Christmas."

"I'm happy with you beside me," he said, pulling me down for a kiss sweeter than sugarplums. He chuckled. "Merry, too."

I was tempted to make merry, but I resisted, pointing to the stocking. "I hope you'll be happy with your present, and know that even though I spent money, it was from the heart."

Without a word, he reached down and picked up the stocking. He withdrew the small, square present and smiled a little as he removed the Father Christmas on a beach wrapping paper. Remus stared down at the pair of mirrors with a woman's face engraved on the silver backs for so long that I got nervous.

"I was only going to give you handmade certificates for things like foot rubs and a striptease on demand, but when Sirius asked for his mirrors back, I had to buy a pair. These are called Melusine Mirrors, named after a haunting spirit. Mundungus found them, and only charged a ten percent fee, which I took to mean he got a cut from the seller, to make it worth his—"

Remus's kiss cut off my babbling. My lips clung to his when he drew back. "Thank you," he said softly. "These mirrors may be our only way of communication at times."

There was a shadow in his eyes that made me long to chase it away. "I made you the certificates as well," I said with a smile.

His expression brightened. "I'll look forward to redeeming them." He reached beneath the bed to hand me a rectangular box wrapped in red paper. "This is for you, and although handmade, I did purchase some items."

I ripped off the paper. Inside the box were white paper stars and snowflakes along with wooden baubles painted all the colours of the rainbow. Tears filled my eyes. "They're beautiful." I sniffed. "Makes me wish I had a tree."

Remus reached over the bedside table to pick up his wand.

I gasped when a small potted fir appeared on the desktop. "How?"

He smiled. "I bought the tree yesterday and hid it in the attic."

I laughed. "I thought the scent of greenery from the lower floors had wafted upwards like hot air!"

Remus said, "I would love to decorate it now, but Harry and the children will wake soon, and I should help Molly prepare breakfast."

I kissed him tenderly. "I understand, love. You need to be here today, so I'll go to Mum and Dad's and wake them up for old time's sake. I'll spend the evening with you."

"I will look forward to it all day, my love."

I watched him dress, remembering last Christmas, and how I had felt that it was the happiest of my life. In terms of sheer joy, it had been, but this year brought a deeper kind of happiness. We might part, but knowing how much Remus looked forward to being with me again gave me a feeling I could only describe as peace on earth.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas may be the most wonderful time of the year, but for some it's a mix of dark and light moments, and certainly seemed so in OotP. I came up with Melusine Mirrors and enjoyed using them along with fun facts about Victorian decorations. The details about Phineas Nigellus came from researching a story about him ( _Paint it Black: the Paintings of Phineas Nigellus_ ). FB is my creation, inspired by the caption on the family tree that reads “there are many stories between the lines.”


	28. Approaching Shadow

 

 

In the days following Christmas, I kept busy with work, spending time with Remus and playing draughts and Exploding Snap with the children. I tried to talk Sirius into a rousing game of pirates, but he said that Captain Black Dog would make us all walk the plank, and he'd rather be marooned with Buckbeak.

I didn't try to coax him out of his sullens, as Molly called them. It was clear that Harry's approaching departure weighed heavily on Sirius's mind. I understood. Although I kept my feelings hidden, I felt something similar.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop remembering that moment in the hotel corridor. It wasn't that I thought Scrimgeour was attempting to turn our professional relationship into a personal one. I had escorted him to a New Year's Eve gala, and although we left well before midnight, he never once behaved with anything other than complete propriety.

I was still uncomfortable in his company, simply because I was aware that at any time, he could violate my mind. I hated to admit that any Legilimens could extract my thoughts and memories with ease. It made me feel vulnerable—and determined to learn enough basic Occlumency to defend myself.

On the morning that the children were scheduled to return to school, Ginny took me aside and said quietly that Professor Snape had visited to arrange extra Potions lessons for Harry. The tone of Ginny's voice, and the look in her eyes, said that she wasn't fooled. Harry didn't need tutoring in Potions.

"These lessons will  _help,_ won't they?" she asked.

Sirius had threatened dire—if unspecified—retribution should I blab about Occlumency lessons. Since Ginny hadn't mentioned anything  _specifically_ , however, I had no qualms about saying, "Best thing for him." I reached out to adjust her hat more firmly on her head. We were about to leave, and an icy wind was blowing outside.

"You sound like a Gran." Ginny smiled. "Act like one too."

I ran a hand over iron-grey curls a poodle would envy. "If the orthopaedic shoes fit." I hugged my friend when she giggled. "Trust Dumbledore. If he thinks these lessonswill benefit Harry, they will." I hoped my conviction rang in my voice. I firmly believed that if Harry wanted to keep from having visions worse than that of giant snake, he needed to learn Occlumency.

In the same way, if I wanted to keep a Legilimens out of my head, I needed to follow Harry's example and learn from Snape.

If he would agree to teach me.

All too soon, we were walking down the front steps of Grimmauld Place with Remus leading. Something in the way he glanced around made me nervous. I reacted by taking charge as if I'd put on a head of the women's society personality along with my tweed suit.

The Knight Bus was crowded, so I ignored Remus's raised eyebrow over my managing ways and briskly sent him to escort Ginny and the twins to the back while the three other children and I found seats on the top deck.

"Harry and Ron can have the seats at the back," Hermione said. She swallowed hard. "I—I like the view at the front."

The boys, oblivious to the sacrifice of their friend, made their way to the back with the conductor following them like a pimply puppy. I shook my head.

The moment we sat down in the two club chairs nearest the moving stairway, I reached for Hermione's wrist. "Acupressure Charm," I said, applying pressure to a spot about four centimetres above the wrist on the underside of her arm. "Works for motion-sickness and queasiness caused by anxiety."

"Thank you." She gave a small laugh. "Sitting atop a triple-decker bus hurtling about at dangerous speeds is not my favourite way to travel."

I didn't mind, but then I'd been riding the Knight Bus since I was small, and enjoyed the unpredictable jolts and slides.

BANG.

Hermione gasped when our chairs slid backwards. Maybe I should’ve warned her about the quirks of magical travel. Ron's little owl flew up to perch on the girl's shoulder. His cage must have fallen. She stroked grey feathers and glanced back toward the boy awkwardly rising from the floor. The expression on her face showed that she wanted to go help him.

I slanted a look at the traffic. "Better stay put if you want to keep Pigwidgeon safe."

Hermione faced forward and immediately placed her hands over her eyes. "If the bus is magic, why does it have to  _sway?"_

BANG.

We glided backward once more, our chairs bumping into each other. I sniggered. "Dunno, but think of couples who meet when their chairs collide. They get to say 'we fell for each other on the Knight Bus—literally!'"

When the conductor staggered in our direction, I grabbed his arm and thrust a small pouch of Galleons into his hand. "The bus will stop at Hogwarts  _soon_ , won't it, Stan?"

He beamed. "I'll go tell the driver."

"You didn't do that on my account, I hope," Hermione said, when Stan lurched toward the stairs. Her face was very pale.

BANG.

Our chairs spun like teacups. I felt like laughing in glee, but instead I made a show of covering a yawn. "No. I'm just bored."

She giggled weakly.

It wasn't too much longer before the bus stopped at the gates leading to Hogwarts. Remus and I got off to help the children with their luggage and say our goodbyes. "I'll write," Ginny said after a quick hug.

"Good, because I'd miss my best pen friend if you didn't."

 

After Remus took Harry aside for a short word in private, we boarded the bus once more.

"Where to now, folks?" Stan asked brightly.

"Salford," said Remus.

"That's in the north-west of England," I said. Weren't we heading back to London?

"Gets a bit confused, does she, your old mum?" Stan asked Remus in an aside. "Still knows her geography, though."

Remus only smiled and steered me toward the back.

"Why are we going to that dirty old town?" I asked, scooting my wing chair close to his.

BANG.

I kicked away the empty chair sliding toward me. The enormous cabbage roses on the upholstery reminded me of the decor in Hestia Jones' flat.

Remus said, "The folk song  _Dirty Old Town_ was written about Salford, not werewolves, but it captures some of their bitterness." He lowered his voice. "Our friend David passed along an owl from William Hughes, a member of the London group who moved to Salford. He heard werewolves blend in with the local authority tenants, and the escalating crime rate is blamed on the Muggles living in deprived areas.

I leaned closer. "What did the letter say?"

"If David wanted to join a real pack, he should move north."

I considered what he said for a few moments. "So we're going to pay the bloke a visit—pretend we're considering a move?"

Remus reached out and took my hand. "Yes."

I glanced up and saw Stan standing a few metres away. The young woman he spoke to stared out of the window as she replied to his chatter in monosyllables. He looked over at us and blinked like a spotted owl at our clasped fingers. Mischievously, I lifted Remus's hand and kissed it.

Once the bus deposited us on the pavement outside an inner-city shopping area in Salford, I told Remus, "I have to change."

He glanced toward the shops. "I don't have any Muggle money."

"Don't need any. I'll transfigure my clothes in a dressing room."

I could tell my transformation surprised Remus. I kept my normal face and hairstyle, but the colour of my hair was a brown that matched my cloak and trousers.

"Are you trying not to attract notice?" he said with a half-smile. "You're still far too pretty."

I gave him a peck on the lips. "Thanks."

He clasped my hand with his and brought it to his lips. "I mean it. You could never be ordinary."

I fluttered my eyelashes. "Even when I'm a moth and not a butterfly?"

Remus kissed my palm. "Some moths out-dazzle butterflies."

That was so sweet. I wanted to hug him, but I didn't. A hug would lead to a kiss, and then a snog. Our focus on this mission needed to be sharp, not clouded by lusty thoughts.

I pointed to the tower blocks that loomed like concrete monuments to sixties architecture. "I hope he doesn't live in one of those high rises."

"No, he's on an estate that avoided  _re-development_."

The run-down council estate where William Hughes lived was made up of red brick rows of Victorian terraced houses. I sidled closer to Remus. "Is that kid over there smoking an illegal substance, and is it my imagination, or are all those faces staring at us?"

"Yes, I believe so, and as for the staring, I can't decide if I'm expected to avoid eye-contact, acknowledge the attention with a nod, or look away to appear non-threatening."

"How about we just keep our eyes straight ahead and walk briskly as possible?"

"Excellent idea."

No one harassed us as we strolled along, trying to appear calm and minding our own business. I wondered if we looked like council authorities or missionaries, dressed in our plain clothing. Perhaps we were the scary ones.

Hughes lived at the far end of the street. By the time we arrived on his doorstep, I felt as though we'd run a gauntlet.

By the number of clicks I heard, I figured there were at least four locks on the door. I didn't blame the man for wanting to keep his neighbours from visiting at awkward times, like when he was gone or asleep and unarmed.

"We're here to see William Hughes," Remus said when the door opened. He smiled at the teenager scratching his blond head as if he'd recently awakened from a nap. "Would you tell your father—"

"My  _father_ is probably sitting on his fat arse in Bartley Green, listening to the Wireless and happily pretending I don't exist."

I slipped my arm through Remus's. "Are you William, then?"

"Will."

"I'm Remus Lupin. David Dunne—"

"Yeh. He owled. Come in."

I shot a glance at Remus's face as I entered the home. The colour that drained away when the young man revealed his identity had returned. I was glad that he had recovered from the shock of discovering our contact was so young. Will was no more than nineteen, although there were creases forming at the corners of his eyes, and a few blond hairs were actually grey.

There were two futon sofas in the lounge, on opposite sides of the room. Will went over to the one unfolded into a bed and converted the black mattress into a sofa once more. He slouched on it and looked at me, insolence in his stare and tone. "Who are you?"

"I'm his partner."

"Got a name?"

"Nym."

Remus and I had decided that a shortened version of my name would be easiest to remember. I wasn't fond of the old-fashioned sounding Dora, Cousin Rita once had a fish called Dory, and the men of my family, from Dad to Morty already called me by the first part of my name. It suited me. Nym meant name in Greek, and an invented name used to conceal identity in modern times.

"You're not were, are you?"

I knew from Will's tone that he meant werewolf. I lifted a brow. "Why would you say that?"

He brushed his cheeks with the backs of his fingers. "No lines on your face."

I sniffed. There was an acrid smell in the air. "Something smells burnt. Were you making tea?"

Will's green eyes widened as he jumped to his feet. "Bloody hell! If Frank's scorched another kettle I'll rip his throat out!"

I hopped up from my perch on the edge of the lumpy mattress. "If it's not melted too badly, I can fix it." I winked at Remus. "I've been known to put on a kettle and get distracted." I went into the kitchen littered with food packets and unwashed dishes, ignoring the mess to concentrate on the variation of  _Reparo_ needed to fix the warped connection and stopper.

Will watched enviously. "You have a wand, so it can't have been long since you were turned." Square-jawed features tightened. "Must be nice, getting to learn magic and going to school. I was stuck at home with parents who forced me to slog through _History of Magic_ and every other boring, non-magical subject."

Merlin, he sounded bitter. I didn't want to alienate him by admitting that I wasn't a werewolf, so I said lightly, "I slogged through plenty of boring subjects at school, but I'll admit, learning magic made it all worthwhile."

"Handy things, spells. Too bad I was never taught to cast any."

Remus spoke up. "Yet you have an owl?"

"Doesn't take magic to take care of a pet. My mother gave me Strix when I was ten, to ease her guilt for going along with Dad's barmy idea to camp in Woodgate Valley Park on a full moon."

"You're from Birmingham?" I said.

"I can terk loike i'm frum a Burminum council estate if yaouw loike, wench," said Will, smirking. "I didn't grow up in a dump like this, even though I prefer living here to back home." He lifted the kettle. "Want tea?"

I nodded.

"Yes, thank you," said Remus.

Our host put on the kettle, opened a cupboard, and shut it with a snap. "I'll have to wash a few mugs."

"I can help," I said, lifting my wand. I looked at Remus. "Think a Scouring Charm would do?"

He smiled a little. "You wash, I'll dry."

Will's expression was a mix of wistfulness and resentment as he watched us clear the mountain of dishes. "I know all about you, skip," he told Remus. "You're beyond domesticated. Skoll calls you an inside pet, and says you're an example of what happens when wizards get bored with their game of treating weres same as them." Anger and a funny kind of satisfaction laced his words. "Gave you the sack, put you on the street, and took away your Wolfsbane Potion, too, didn't they?"

"Something like that," Remus said mildly. He gave a swish of his wand. All the cupboard doors opened. Dishes floated onto the shelving.

Lips twisting, Will grabbed mugs and made tea. "Can't even work up a proper rage over the injustice, can you?" He curled his lip. "Yaouw ballocks-less nineter"

I glared. "He isn't neutered, he's polite, and if you don't watch your mouth, you little  _nineter,_ I'll show you a proper rage,  _skip_."

Will grinned. "That's more like it!" He handed Remus a mug. "Roger polite. Give me plain speaking." He jerked his head toward me. "Fiery, isn't she?"

"Very."

For the first time, the young man looked at Remus with respect. I wanted to roll my eyes.

"Weres don't come here for social housing," said Will, as he took a seat on the worn futon. "They want to join the third best pack in Britain."

He sounded like a football hooligan bragging about his club. "Who could be better than you?" I asked.

Will seemed to like my cheeky tone. "The Scotland packs, of course." His gaze took on a far-away look. "Skoll says he'll find a place for me in Inverness, soon, and after that, all that's left is joining Greyback's pack."

Eerily, he reminded me of Charlie Weasley, telling me about the steps he would take to live his dream of being a dragon keeper. This was Will's dream.

Abruptly, peridot-coloured eyes sharpened and focused on Remus. "Are you seeking to join up with Greyback?"

"I think he would consider me too tainted by my long association with wizards," Remus said levelly.

"He might—or might be waiting for you to prove your loyalty."

Remus's brows arched. "Would that be possible if I lived here at—"

"Chimney Fields," Will said. "Daft name, but Muggles think gentrification is the answer to everything." He snorted. "Could be worse, could've renamed the estate as a twee village or park." He set his mug on the floor and leaned forward, shaggy hair falling into his eyes. "Look. This may be a dump, but it's heaven compared to living in one of those towers, so people queue up to get in. You might have to wait."

"How long?" asked Remus.

Will shrugged. "No idea. Took me almost a year." He looked at both of us, considering private thoughts, and then smiled. "Tell you what. Frank will be leaving for Inverness come summer. I'll let you have his room upstairs if you agree to let Strix's cage stay by the window, and if you'll tidy the house with those spells." He made a face. "I hate scrubbing like a stupid Muggle."

I thought about retorting "then scrub like a smart one, skip," but something had been bothering me more than his attitude. Why had Will been sleeping on a futon in the lounge? I waited for Remus to say he would owl after further consideration and then asked, "Aren't there two bedrooms upstairs?"

"Never lived in a council house the Ministry fitted for werewolves, have you?" He stood. "Cum yav a luke, as a Brummie would say."

Upstairs, the combination bath and toilet was located between two bedrooms. One contained an unmade bed, a birdcage on a stand, and mounds of clothes, while the other was divided in half—with a Muggle bolt on the door of each cell-like cubicle. The windows were barred.

"The Ministry provides a 'safe-room' with an inside lock that can't be popped when you're furry, so the public stays reassured that us menaces to society are contained." He jerked his head toward the cubicle on the left. "Do you two share?"

My eyes flew to Remus.

He smiled. "Yes. We share."

 

On the ride back London; I waited for a moment of quiet on the bus to say, "I haven't shared something with you that I should have."

He placed his hand over mine.

I told Remus in the briefest, most unemotional terms about Scrimgeour's use of Legilimency.

The pad of his thumb stroked the top of my wrist. "I agree that Occlumency lessons are vital, and whatever else he may be, Snape is a talented Occlumens and a more than competent teacher."

"Are you mad at me for keeping that from you?"

"No. I understand why you did it, and you did confide in me—eventually."

We were at the very back corner of the bus, so I felt free to kiss Remus for being wonderful. When the inevitable slide forward began, we leaned back to keep our balance, our arms wrapped around each other to keep our chairs and our lips pressed together.

 

Weeks passed before I got the nerve to ask Snape about Occlumency lessons. After the brief Order meeting on the first Saturday in February, I followed him out of the kitchen when he left. He was the first to do so, as usual.

I startled when he turned on his heel in the entry. "You have been taking undue interest in me. Why?"

Stars and stones, did he think I was trying to get off with him? "I want you to teach me Occlumency," I rushed to say, before I blurted out something tactless, like "in what universe would I ever fancy you?"

"For what purpose?"

I avoided his dark gaze. "Work-related."

"That is a prevarication."

"No, it isn't, I'm just avoiding telling you about an incident I don't want repeated." I grasped at mental straws and said, "I can pay, or barter some exotic potions ingredient if you like."

"Very well. Seven o'clock Friday evening, my office."

I sagged in relief. "Does this mean you're going to teach me? What do you want for payment?"

"Friday's lesson will determine whether I offer any further instruction, and payment will be discussed only if I decide to continue." Thin lips pulled back in a sneer. "Potter is the only dunderhead I can be coerced to suffer."

"I'm not a dunderhead," I called, watching him swoop away. When the front door shut, I sighed. "I hope."

 

When Friday night arrived, I Flooed to the Hog's Head tavern and then jogged through the snowy village. I only flinched a little, reaching to open the gates of Hogwarts. I was almost one hundred per cent sure Snape would have ensured I could enter the grounds without security wards being triggered, but there was part of me that feared a Shock Spell or worse.

Once inside the castle, I headed straight for the dungeon office. Before I could knock, Snape said, "Enter."

I wondered if he used a type of Foe-Glass or a ward triggered when someone approached his door. I wasn't going to ask. This room made me feel like a fifth-year student again. I half expected him to warn me to ask pertinent, not impertinent questions in class.

"Hi," I said. "Should I sit?"

Snape rose and moved around his desk to face me. "No. I want to test your natural ability." He lifted his wand. "Focus on repelling any intrusion into your thoughts with your mind alone."

_Focus, right. Standing in a cold office with creepy things wiggling in jars behind you, focus on defending your—how the hell am I supposed to do that?"_  I took a step back. "Hold on."

" _Legilimens!_ "

At once I was Lola, in the hotel corridor with Scrimgeour, laughing my head off over the thought of Fred and George as fashion designers, wielding stamps to decorate dress robes. I looked at my boss. His tawny eyes glinted with amusement.

The scene began to change. I was now standing in front of my full-length mirror, tilting my head to the side as I gauged Lola's image. The breasts needed to be a little bigger.

Snape averted his gaze, causing the memory to fade. "I understand your reason for learning to seal your mind against magical intrusion."

"Good of you," I bit off.

He spoke as if I had not, "I advised Potter to use his wand, but that would defeat the purpose in your case. You must defend yourself more subtly, with nonverbal spells."

"How about an Instant Scalping Jinx?"

Snape's lips tightened. "Emotional outbursts will avail you nothing. Self-control is the key to Occlumency. Control your temper, control your emotions, and you will control your mind to the degree that you will repel any attempt to access memories and thoughts."

"Easy for a cold-blooded Slytherin to say."

His expression was sour. "Discipline is a trait Slytherins perfect—one you must emulate if you wish to prevent  _this..._ "

Without a word, or even using his wand, Snape delved into my mind.

I was standing beside Scrimgeour in his back garden, welcoming guests. My eyes scanned the eclectic group of Ministry and community leaders before they fell on a redheaded young man and his partner.

"When did that memory take place?" Snape asked sharply.

"None of your business."

"I saw Percy Weasley. Was the Minister there also?"

"Fudge no," I said before thinking.

A corner of Snape's mouth twitched. "If Scrimgeour is plotting to replace Fudge, it is the Order's business." He pointed his wand. "If you wish to deny me information, then I suggest you act like a Black and focus your will."

_Act like a Black? Wouldn't be very subtle to Crucio my boss, now would it?_

"Let's try again. One—"

_How would my mother react?_

"—two—"

_What would she do to counter Legilimency?_

"—three—"

I didn't morph my outer features, but inside, the heat of my frustration chilled as I gave Snape a cool stare.

" _Legilimens!"_

It was like being encased in ice. I felt that nothing could penetrate the frozen barrier I had created to keep out the world. I exhaled and smiled to see that my breath was visible in the cold.

I blinked dazedly when a blanket was wrapped around my shoulders.

"Drink this." Snape thrust a mug of something into my hand.

"Wha' is it?" I shivered.

"Chocolate, in liquid form."

"Smells good."

"It will counter the mild case of hypothermia you seem to have given yourself.  _Drink_."

I obediently drained the chocolate. My muddled thinking cleared at once. "What just happened?"

His tone was dry. "You tried too hard to be cold-hearted."

I huddled into the blanket. "I have a hard time being subtle."

"You don't say."

I bit my upper lip and tasted chocolate. I scrubbed my mouth with the back of my hand, thinking that if Snape was any kind of a decent human being, he would have told me I had a chocolate moustache. "So, will you teach me?"

He strode to the door and opened it. "Next Friday at seven o'clock. Bring chocolate with a high cocoa content." His lip curled. "You are likely to need it."

I grinned in relief. "Does this mean you don't think I'm a dunderhead?"

Snape didn't answer until I was in the corridor and his door was closing. "As  _big_ a dunderhead—no."

I made a face. "Happy Valentine's Day to you too!"

 

The next morning, Remus brought me breakfast in bed for Valentine's Day. I was wearing his present, lingerie in Valentine colours. When I saw the tray in his hands, I threw off the covers and patted the mattress. "You went to _Chocolat_!" I waited until he set down the tray to kiss him. "How sweet!"

"Are you referring to me or the truffles?" he said with a smile.

There was a rap on the door. "Thanks, Moony!"

"You're welcome," Remus said. He noticed my curiosity and explained, "Sirius provided the Galleons. I went shopping for the breakfast items and delivered a tray to his door."

"He got a bargain," I said, gazing at the assortment of croissants, strawberries, and truffles. "Are those chocolate-filled croissants?"

"There's strawberry filled and almond creme as well."

My stomach rumbled. "Forget Eros. You are the god of love."

Remus's chuckle rumbled too. "Are you trying to tell me that the way to a woman's heart is through her stomach?" He slid a finger beneath the lace garter of my thigh-high stocking.

I fed him a bite of chocolate-drizzled croissant and then kissed the chocolate off his lips. "At this moment, oh yeah, but after breakfast, I'm sure you'll think of another way."

"Several ways," he said with a wolfish grin.

 

Later that day, after I popped over to my flat to get ready for our dinner date, I was surprised to find Remus sitting on my sofa when I came out of the bedroom fastening an earring. "Wasn't I supposed to meet you at Grimmauld Place?" I sat beside him and drew a heart on the thigh of his black trousers with my fingertip. "You look very handsome tonight."

"Thank you, and yes, something came up." A slow smile spread across his face. "No one looks lovelier in red than you do."

I kissed his cheek. "What happened at Grimmauld?"

"Sirius got a last-minute idea and asked me to do him a favour."

My eyes were drawn to the clock on the mantel. There was a half hour until our reservation. Would we have time? "What is it?"

"He wants us to borrow the Sandman from Mundungus so he can create a beach on the roof for Cami. She's made a Polynesian dinner, so he wants to provide the atmosphere."

What was I going to say? No? "Sure. If we miss our reservations, we'll find somewhere else to go."

 

"Hello!  _Mauruuru_ , thank you for the Sandman," said Sirius, when we dropped off the djin block. He was dressed in a shirt printed with red hibiscus. "I'd invite you up for coconut chicken, but the table only seats two." He swayed from side to side. "We're going Tahitian tonight, but next time we'll hold a Hawaiian luau. He clapped his friend on the shoulder while giving me a wink. "Maybe Moony here will finally limbo."

"I'll hold one end of the bamboo," Remus said.

I was tempted to pout. I would love to see him limbo. "Remember," I said, " _abda_  starts the sand, and  _qift_ stops it."

_Haere maru!_  Take it easy, cousin. I have it all under control." Sirius waggled his eyebrows. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my v _ahiné_ is waiting."

Outside, I smiled at the faint sounds of island music in the air before the sound, like the house itself, vanished.

Remus said, "I've made my woman miss out on our reservations, and now I don't know where to take her for dinner."

I stepped close to twine my arms around his neck. "Your v _ahiné_ doesn't care where we go. Being with you makes any atmosphere romantic."

An hour later, we were sharing Indian takeaway as we sat on the double lounger up in Morty's rooftop garden, illumination orbs glowing softly and a Warming Charm making the air seem almost tropical.

Remus must have shared my thought. "We don't have sand, but we have the stars," he said.

I kissed him for being my Valentine and then ran down to my flat to retrieve another present. "It's for us both," I said, as I placed the Orpheus Orb on the table and gave it a spin.

Music spilled into the night. I moved into his arms and inwardly sang along with a wizarding version of an Ella Fitzgerald classic.

_I only have eyes for you._

 


	29. Veiled Shadow

 

 

In different years, I'd had months that dragged on, but this year, February and March seemed to fly by. Sometimes it felt as if I was a circus performer learning to juggle while riding a unicycle. I was so intent on keeping the balls in the air while remaining on course; I didn't look down to register the days passing. Without Remus's stability to hold onto, I would have never been able to keep my balance, much less juggle work, Order duties, and Occlumency lessons.

On April Fool's Day, I appreciated how fortunate I was. Before Remus, love had felt like a joke played on me by the universe.  _You think this bloke is your one true love? April Fool's!_ Now that I fully realised my blessed state, I could have decided to share some good fortune and not pull any pranks myself. I didn't. My rascally uncle had earned a prank for the wedding reception he'd intended to chintz out of, and I planned to see that he got what he deserved.

To put my plan into action, I hurried over to the Blue Moon after work. I opened the door quietly, putting my fingers to my lips to keep Bubbles from greeting me while I snuck over to the stairwell. I didn't want Morty to know I was in the building. I even tiptoed up the steps.

On the first floor, I strolled into Lisa's open office. "Want to play an April Fool's joke on Morty?" I asked after a quick hello.

"I think I'm in labour," she said.

I froze for an instant before bursting into laughter. "Stars and stones, I thought you actually meant it for a second! You got me—brilliant acting. Morty will forget your due date is two weeks off if you say it to him just like that."

Lisa didn't smile. She stood. "I'm not pretending. My back's been aching all day, and the contractions haven't faded like they did before. They're coming closer together." She suddenly put a hand on her stomach. "Here's another one."

I could actually see her abdomen tighten against the fabric of her robes. "How far apart are the contractions?" I asked, trying not to panic. I glanced at my watch.

"A few minutes." Her strained tone abruptly relaxed. "That's over, thank Merlin, but unfortunately the contractions are lasting longer, too."

"That one lasted a minute," I said with forced calmness. I wanted to yell and drag her down the stairs. "We're going to get Morty  _now_."

A look of alarm flashed through almond-shaped eyes. "My hospital bag," said Lisa. "I need my hospital bag."

"Okay. I'll walk you down and then run up to the flat and get it."

"Thanks."

In the corridor, when another contraction stopped Lisa in her tracks, I noticed that her skin was pale and she was starting to shake. "Are you okay?" I was ready to send my Patronus to Morty at once if she said no.

She gulped, put a hand to her mouth, and then vomited onto the floor, spattering our shoes.

Before I cleaned the mess with a spell, I sent my Patronus bounding through the wall to tell Morty to contact the Wizarding Ambulance Service  _immediately._

Lisa was holding onto the banister, halfway down the steps, when her husband came rushing up the stairs. One glance at his face and I asked, "Are you sure you two don't have food poisoning? Because Morty looks like he's going to honk up."

"I'm not going to vomit," my uncle snapped, "and we'll see how Lupin looks when the shoe's on his foot!"

Lisa gripped my arm, gasping through a contraction, "My bag."

"I'll get it," I said, dashing up the stairs.

Morty's voice followed me. "Don't faff around!"

"Just for that I'm stopping by the bathroom to put blue dye in your shampoo!" I called back.

I was thankful Morty hadn't changed the rune pattern to disengage the wards on his flat. I would have, in his place. Up until a few weeks ago, I was still considering sneaking in and shaving his head. He wasn't the worst skinflint in the world, but only Lisa thought his bargain-hunting exploits were "cute."

By the time I grabbed the case and ran downstairs, the ambulance was a swirl of yellow and green in the distance. Bubbles stood on the pavement, watching it go. She greeted me with a sunny smile. "Morty said we were to go straight to the Fae Birthing Centre, with no—" She giggled.

"Faffing around?"

"Close enough." Bubbles held up her hand to show me her fingernails. "Look. I spelled them to blue right before I saw the cute little silvery doggy go into Morty's office. I must have had a premonition!"

"It's possible, but my Patronus is a huge bear of dog. How can you call him little?"

"He's little compared to my Jimmy."

Point taken. Jimmy Durbin had shoulders so wide, if he was a wizard, I'd be wondering if there was giant in his family, or maybe even troll.

Bubbles locked and warded the Blue Moon while I sent my Patronus off to Remus, asking him to send his along to my mother before Apparating.

Located near St. Mungo's in the building of a "relocated" tax office, the birth centre was reached through a side entrance that appeared in the brick after Bubbles and I stated our names and those of the couple we were visiting.

Inside, the atmosphere was soothing. Paint and furnishings were a mix of cream and blues and greens. The welcome witch in pale green robes glanced up from her desk to smile. "Mrs. Black is progressing nicely. If you'll have a seat in waiting area, I'm sure Mr. Black will have an announcement to make very soon."

Bubbles and I sat on a sofa and began to sort through the collection of magazines on the coffee table. I spied one with a "which witch wore it best" article and picked it up.

"Why would he need to make an announcement?" Bubbles whispered. "It's only the two of us. Couldn't he just say Lisa's had the baby?"

I heard a soft chime and looked up to see Remus stride into the centre. "I think we'll be a small crowd before long," I said, tossing down the magazine as he approached and reaching out to hug him.

"I was in the library playing chess when the Patronus arrived," he said, lowering his voice to murmur, "I think Sirius was more surprised to see your Patronus than to learn Lisa was ready to have the baby."

I groaned. "If he teases me about it, I'll kill him."

"I think he was touched."

"Yeah, right, touched in the head, laughing like a loony about it, I expect."

Remus smiled.

Within a quarter-hour, my parents and Mr. and Mrs. Liu, along with Cami and half a dozen Liu family members had joined us in the waiting area. Remus and I were chatting with Bubbles, Cami, and the two cousins I had met the night of Lisa's hen party when Morty entered the room.

My uncle's hair was standing up in spikes, but the ecstatic grin on his face made tears prick the back of my eyes. Dramatic as ever, he waited for everyone to stare in expectant silence before announcing the birth of Mortimer Sirius Black.

Lisa and the baby were both doing brilliantly, and the new mother requested the godparents be the first to visit. My eyes flew to Remus. Morty and Lisa had mentioned once that they'd like us to be the godparents, but I hadn't really thought about it. The expression on Remus's face caused me to wipe away tears. He would finally have the chance to be a godfather.

While Morty boasted to Remus about the length and weight and amazing alertness of his child, I sat in the chair beside the bed. "He's beautiful," I told Lisa. I performed another Sanitising Spell on my hands before stretching out a fingertip to rub the back of a tiny, balled fist.

"He's got his daddy's hair," she said with a laugh, smoothing the downy, black hair that seemed to stand on end.

"Will you call him Morty or—" I choked up, thinking how Sirius must feel, excluded from yet another family celebration.

"Look at that face," Lisa said with a loving smile. "Have you ever seen a baby that was more Sirius?"

"Seriously? No."

"Puns already? I guess my boy will have to get used to them," said Morty, hugging me before kissing his wife and child.

I rose from the chair. "I'll let Mr. and Mrs. Liu have a chance to visit."

Morty nodded. "Will you ask Ted and Andie as well? They're the closest thing my kids will have to grandparents on the Black side of the family."

"They'll love spoiling him rotten," I said.

 

After everyone had a chance to see the baby, Cami, Remus, and I brought pizza back to Grimmauld Place. In the back of my mind, I feared Sirius would be drunk or moody—maybe both. Instead, he was surprisingly cheerful, ushering us down to the kitchen, fetching Butterbeer from the coolant cabinet and asking about the baby. He gave a bark of delighted laughter to hear the boy's middle name. "First a Patronus in my Animagus form and now a namesake. I'm honoured."

Cami kissed his cheek. "You should be, to know how much people love you."

Sirius kissed her soundly on the lips. "I am," he said with a chuckle, "even if they don't love me the way some people think they do."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I pointed my finger at the grinning imp across from me. "Did Harry say something to you?" The look on his face was one I'd seen on Morty's dozens of times: shifty. "What did you say to him?"

"That was a joke about a slip of the tongue he's probably already forgotten." Sirius rolled his eyes. "It was New Year's Eve. Harry and I were playing chess, having a chat, when he asked if you had a boyfriend." He smirked. "After I teased him about fancying older women, I said 'if she does, she's keeping it mum, so a certain  _Mum_  won't go ape, if you know what I mean.'"

"Oh, Sirius," Cami said with fond exasperation.

I tried to smile. "You're pulling an April Fool's Day prank, right?"

Sirius shook his head, giving me puppy-dog eyes.

I put out my hands and pantomimed choking him.

When Cami left the kitchen to go upstairs to the loo, Remus asked his friend, "Were you drinking to make that kind of slip?"

"I’d had a few beers. I wasn't drunk." Sirius pushed to his feet. "People say stupid things all the time and no one asks them if they're pissed. Me, I never get the benefit of the doubt. I'm always guilty without trial." He stalked out of the kitchen.

I boxed the leftover pizza and placed it in the cupboard where Kreacher made his den. "Eat it or don't eat it, but the pizza's wizard made," I yelled down into the hole. I slammed the cupboard door shut and felt like kicking it. I had been so joyful, and now all I felt was upset and angry.

Remus slid his arms around me from behind. He pressed his chest against my back as he bent to kiss my neck. "Sirius will apologise the next time he sees us. He always does. Let's go to your place and remember only tonight's happy moments."

"Celebrate being godparents?"

His hands slid upward. "Celebrate life...and love..."

I heart a faint sound that was like the sweep of a broom across a floor—or a cardboard pizza box sliding across stone. Kreacher had taken the pizza! I covered Remus's hands with mine and turned my head to seek his lips, showing that my answer was yes.

 

Along with showers, the month of April brought letters from Ginny Weasley. She had a lot on her mind with school and Quidditch added to the emotional turmoil caused by Dumbledore's disappearance and evil toad Umbridge.

One letter made me chuckle.

**Dear Tonks,**

**I found out the hard way what Pince will do to students if they endanger her precious books. I went to the library after Quidditch practise this afternoon to talk to Harry and give him his Easter egg from Mum. He was looking down, so I asked him about it. I thought he wanted to talk to Cho, but he didn't. It was Sirius he wanted to talk to!**

**We were chatting and eating the smallest bites of chocolate when Pince saw us and went mental. She screamed as if we were wiping our hands on the pages or something and made Harry's books pelt us on the way out.**

**If that wasn't bad enough, Harry's ink bottle smacked me on the cheek and ink dribbled down my face. Then, when I got back to my dorm, I found out I had chocolate smeared on my lips!**

**If you know of any jinxes to use on librarians, it would be my pleasure to try them and see which one is most effective.**

**Your friend,**

**Ginny**

It pleased me greatly to reply.

**Dear Ginny,**

**That must have been awful for you. I'm impressed by the way you kept your sense of humour. Since I know that you were _joking,_  I can tell you, strictly in jest, that  _Evellere,_ aimed at chairs, will pull them out, requiring the librarian to physically push them back in to break the spell. Also annoying (I've heard), is the charm  _Habere pro,_ which causes librarians to place books on the wrong shelves, which they  _mistake for_ the correct ones.**

**An effective prank to pull without magic (according to an anonymous source) is to take a library copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , divide it into sections, and then leave each individual section on tables in different areas of the library. Rumour has it that librarians find it far less amusing than you do when they have to reassemble the paper for other patrons to read.**

**I've been keeping busy tracking down old _friends_ and making new ones. No ink on my face, but I did get egg on it when the child of a person who had filed a complaint against their neighbour threw one at me. One-minute eggs have very runny yolks, and yellow was never my colour. When I was in school, I petitioned for the Hufflepuff colours to be changed to pink and black. I had loads of signatures, but all I got for my efforts was detention.**

**Your friend,**

**Tonks**

I always tried to keep my replies light-hearted, although I was becoming stressed too.

 

Dumbledore might not be acting Headmaster anymore, but he kept in contact with the Order, and set us to following key Death Eaters in the hopes of determining Voldemort's plans. Alternating night duty and surveillance on top of my day job was wearing me down. I had to snatch moments with Remus, and only saw baby Sirius a handful of times when I stopped by the flat.

The news of Fred and George's grand exit from Hogwarts barely rated a grin, although I did admire their style and enjoyed the thought of Filch as a surly gondolier, ferrying students across the swamp the twins created so they could reach their classrooms.

By the end of Easter holidays, I was feeling the effects of sleep deprivation. My brain was so sluggish, when I returned to Grimmauld after a  _fun_  Monday night of surveillance, I didn't even laugh when Sirius demanded that I go to Snape and demand he resume teaching Harry Occlumency. I barely had the presence of mind to ask, "Why'd he stop?"

Remus relayed what Harry said earlier in a communication fire. I hugged him. "Bet you felt guilty about tha', didn' you, baby? It wasn' your fault. James and Sirius were res—respons'ble for their own actions."

"Why is she slurring her words?" Sirius demanded. "Is she drunk?"

Remus pressed a kiss to my forehead. "She's tired."

I wriggled closer. "Not too tired."

Sirius snorted in amusement. "Get thee to a bedroom."

I grinned all the way upstairs. In the bedroom, I dropped onto the mattress and lifted my feet off the floor. Remus obligingly took off my shoes and then tickled my left foot after removing pink and black striped socks.

I giggled as I unfastened my trousers. "How about you help me strip off everything?"

"All right."

I flopped back onto the bed and promptly fell asleep.

 

In the morning, I opened my eyes to see Remus lying on his side, watching me. "How long did I sleep?" I squinted, trying to gauge the sunlight filtering through grimy windows. "Am I late for work?"

"I owled Jerry. You're off sick today."

"In that case, I don't care what time it is." I leaned forward and kissed him, thanking whatever wizard came up with morning-after strength brushing/flossing mints. One of the best things in life was a long, slow kiss with Remus. I touched his cheek and smiled. "You got up and shaved."

"With Sirius inclined to mickey taking, I didn't want to give him ammunition by giving you head-to-toe stubble burn."

The thought of how I'd get that burn made me kiss Remus again, this time following it up by gently nibbling his lower lip. Not that I didn't adore his entire mouth, but that sensuous, talented bottom lip was what clung to mine when a kiss ended, and what I wanted to drive me wild caressing other parts of my body.

Remus took his cue from me and pulled back to nibble his way down my throat. "You need to spend the day in bed." His voice was a husky rasp that gave me lovely shivers. "Resting."

"Will you spend it with me?"

"Yes." He kissed the hollow of my throat. "I'm going to make sure you rest."

"You need to catch up on your rest too."

"I'm planning on it."

 

The day in bed, while not always restful, did wonders for my disposition. The next afternoon, Jerry said after we sent the last report to Gulch, "You should take a sick day more often."

"What are you saying? That I'm not a joy to work with tired and cranky?" I pretended to scowl. "You owe me a drink for hurting my feelings."

Jerry's freckled face lit up in a smile. "All right, I'll buy."

We walked over to the Iron Shackle and found Tom and Julia sitting in a corner booth, snogging. "Just like old times," I said. "Clearwater and Fenton inspiring inter-office memos about public displays of affection."

"Gulch can't say a word. We're off duty—and married," said Tom.

Julia smirked. "Sit down and tell me what you were up to yesterday instead of working."

I slid into the booth. "Sleeping and a lot of what you were doing a minute ago."

"A beer, right, Tonks? I'll go get it from the bar," said Jerry.

After he walked off, I smacked a palm to my forehead. "Tactless, aren't I? Poor Jerry can't get a girl and I rub Remus in his face."

The couple exchanged a look. When Tom raised an eyebrow, Julia's eyes narrowed into slits before she turned to me. "About Jerry," she said with a glance toward the bar. "We can't help but wonder if there isn't a reason why he never hooks up with any of those girls he dates."

I checked to make sure my Auror partner wasn't on his way back with the beer before I said, "Of course there is. He's a magnet for the pretty-but-psycho type."

Julia looked at me as though I was thick. " _Another_ reason."

Jerry was heading our way. "If it's isn't his mother the control freak, I have no clue, so tell me some other time." To make up for talking behind Connelly's back, I smiled brightly when handed my beer. "Thanks, mate!"

"You're welcome. We should do this more often."

Our conversation turned to normal things like busy schedules and the cases we'd worked. I wanted to ask my friends' opinions about the Harry Potter article—if they believed that Voldemort had returned—but I was afraid someone would overhear and report us. Fudge threatened to sack any “disloyal” Ministry employee, and giving credence to Harry Potter was number one on the list of disloyal actions.

 

I didn't get a chance to ask Snape about teaching Harry Occlumency until the end of May. Snape had cancelled our lesson for the last Friday in April, and was too busy to attend meetings, so until he owled that he would have time for a lesson on the twenty-ninth, I had no expectation of being able to speak to him.

Although I didn't drag my feet on the way from the Hog's Head to the school gates, I wasn't skipping in eagerness, either. Sirius could tell me to demand and insist all he liked, but I knew full well that Snape would only sneer at me if I tried to order him around.

When I knocked and was told to enter, I attempted to start off on a friendly note. "Hello, Severus."

"Have I asked you to address me informally,  _Nymphadora_?"

I could feel my eyes widen. Cold dungeon air wafted across parts of my eyeballs that were usually protected. "No, but I thought—"

"To talk me into resuming Occlumency lessons with Potter? I received Black's barely-intelligible scrawling on the subject. I will give you the same answer.  _No_. Potter knows why I cannot teach him further. The subject is closed."

"Closed for the term?"

Snape looked down his long nose at me. "Forever."

There was nothing I could say. Forever was final. I exhaled heavily. "OK. I have a question that relates to what I've been learning."

"Go on."

That was easy for him to say. He got to curl his lip if I asked what he considered a stupid question. "Well, I know how to give someone the cold shoulder, in a manner of speaking, but I don't want to just be able to do it  _after_  someone starts to bring up a memory. I want to know how to stop them  _before_ they use Legilimency."

Snape's brow winged upward. "You must learn to recognise the initial stages of Legilimency. I shall demonstrate. Look down, glance up, making eye contact only briefly, as if in the course of conversation, and then look away."

I did as he asked and felt a shiver run from the top of my head down my spine. Was that my imagination, or was he that subtle of a Legilimens? I focused on keeping my mind shielded by a layer of icy reserve.

"Enough. What caused you to guard your thoughts?"

"A shiver."

"Created by Legilimency or a draft?"

"Legilimency."

Thin lips pursed. "How are you able to distinguish between the two?"

I thought for a moment. "It's too weird to explain. I'll have to show you." I cautiously made my way around the desk. "Stay seated and don't hex me. I'm going to touch your hair for demonstration only." I cupped my hands. "Pretend I'm holding an egg." I placed my hands on the top of his head and tapped. "Now I've broken the egg." I ran my fingers down his hair. "Do you feel the yolk running down?"

He shivered.

"We used to play that game first year," I said. "My best mate Julia could give you  _shudders."_

Snape rose to his feet. "Spare me. I have no interest in hearing your recollections. This lesson is over, and if I hear that you have repeated anything that has transpired—"

"I won't. I swear. The thought of Sirius ribbing me is enough to give  _me_ shudders!" I backed hastily toward the door. "Really. My lips are sealed." I reached for the door handle and noticed something. "Hey, my fingers aren't that shiny. You're not a greasy git after all."

"Get out!"

I muttered a Disillusionment Charm and darted into the corridor. "You're still a git, though," I said to the closed door.

_"What's that, my sweet? You heard something?"_

It was Filch and Mrs. Norris. I dodged the pair, but the cat must have got my scent, because she abruptly wheeled around and began padding after me. In the entry she started yowling. Since Filch was likely running to see if she had caught a student, I decided to give her a reason to yowl. When the cat was found shut inside a suit of armour, hopefully Peeves would take the blame.

 

I thought Sirius would blame me for not convincing Snape to resume Harry's Occlumency lessons, but he only shrugged. "I should never have told you to try. Snivellus is a lost cause. Always has been."

Remus shook his head. "Come, now, Padfoot. Some would say the same about you."

Sirius laughed harshly. "And maybe they're right." He lifted his beer in a salute. "I'm off to bed, since Cami's spending the night tailing a bloke claiming disability as he makes the rounds of his favourite pubs." He began whistling on his way up the basement stairs.

All at once, the dank walls of Grimmauld Place seemed to close in, suffocating as any tomb. "Let's go to my place," I said, feeling almost desperate to get away. "Make a cup of tea, snuggle up on the sofa. You can read a book while I attempt to paint my nails or flip through a magazine. I don't care what we do as long as it's something normal, with no mention of You-Know-Who."

Remus smiled and pulled me to my feet.

Almost a week later, Remus and I were lying on his bed, tangled together after expressing our love in the fashion lovers normally do. Following the Order meeting, we had excused ourselves, to the thinly-veiled amusement of Mad-Eye and Kingsley, who had stayed on to have a beer with Sirius.

I was dreamily listening to the beat of my love's heart when Sirius burst into the room.

"What's wrong?" cried Remus, as I pulled up the sheet.

Sirius's face was pale while his eyes blazed. "I found out how Buckbeak injured himself so  _mysteriously_ yesterday. Kreacher did it to keep me upstairs so he could say I was gone when Harry tried to reach me." His hands balled into fists. "Snape just contacted me. Harry thinks that I'm being held captive at the Ministry." His face twisted. "We have to save him from Voldemort's trap!"

The moment Sirius began to explain, I didn't give a damn about modesty anymore. I threw Remus his trousers and slid off the bed to get dressed as quickly as possible.

"Here's your wand," said Remus.

I took it, following as he and Sirius sprinted out of the room and rushed down the stairs.

"Kingsley and I reckon there will be a dozen Death Eaters to contend with," said Mad-Eye, leading the way outside.

"At least we know what they're after," said Kingsley, "and Kreacher won't be able to warn them that we're coming."

"Kreacher won't be breathing after I get back," Sirius said with a malevolent glance back at the vanishing house. "I'm going cut off his head and mount it on the wall, just the way he's always dreamed of."

"We'll do it together," I said, gut twisting over the times I'd felt sorry for the traitorous bastard. He didn't deserve pity. He deserved to die.

Remus didn't protest. He said, "Focus on Harry now. We'll deal with Kreacher later."

"Yes, we will," Sirius said darkly, before Apparating.

 

There were smears of blood in the telephone box leading to the visitor's entrance. "They're already here," Kingsley said, in his deep voice that made the words seem more ominous.

Remus and Sirius dropped their visitor badges onto the floor of the Atrium while Mad-Eye blasted the grilles to the nearest lift apart. It was almost surreal to hear the voice Julia and I called "toffee-nosed bitch" say, "Department of Mysteries," as coolly as if we were going there for authorised purposes.

We ran down the corridor, through the black door the Order had guarded so diligently, following the sound of shouting to locate Harry. He was in the pit of some kind of amphitheatre, standing on a dais in front of a stone archway. Death Eaters were torturing another boy in an effort to force Harry to give them the prophecy he clutched in his hand.

One masked figure had his wand raised. " _Stupefy!"_ I yelled, grimly satisfied to hit my target.

A glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye had me dropping to the floor.

"Oooh, the wittle witch has quick reflexes," a woman's voice cooed mockingly, amplified by a Charm.

I froze. She sounded like my mother.

"Aww, don't you want to meet your Auntie, wittle half-blood? Kreacher's told me  _so_ much about you." A low, evil chuckle made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "I hear you're more a Black than your blood-traitor cousin, wittle Tonksie."

I jumped up to fire a Body-Bind Curse _,_ crouching down behind a bench halfway down the amphitheatre when Bellatrix dodged the spell.

"Did you get a good look at me, wittle girl? Your mother and I used to pass for twins. She was my favourite sister before she ran off with that filthy Mudblood."

Was she trying to appeal to family sympathy? I didn't have any where she was concerned. I cast a Disarming Charm. Bellatrix laughed as she hurled a curse that made the seat behind me explode into rubble. I gritted my teeth, sending an  _Incarcerous_ toward her. She shrugged off the cords, demonstrating that the Marauders weren't the only ones who knew rope tricks.

Our duel continued.

"I have a confession, wittle Tonksie," Bellatrix called out in a horribly playful tone. "I was going to kill you, but you've been so much fun to pway with, I think I'll spare you and rid the world of a blood-traitor instead."

"NO!" I rose from cover to take aim and played right into her hands. My arms and legs snapped together before I could fire off my own  _Petrificus Totalus._ I keeled over, striking my head against stone.

 

The sounds of fighting were replaced by a low rumble that I thought was water until I realised it was the sound of voices. Distantly, I became aware that two voices were calling my name. One sounded hoarse with tears. The other was like something out of a dream, bright and laughing. I didn't want to cry, so I turned toward the happy voice and opened my eyes.

"I thought only cows slept standing up," Sirius said with a grin, waving his hand in front of my face.

I couldn't help but stare. Gone was the gaunt, haunted man I remembered. Sirius's face was now fuller, tanned and healthy. Faint lines crinkled at the corners of grey eyes that sparkled with life. "Have you always been this bloody gorgeous?" I asked, brushing away the strange tears that rolled down my face.

He gave a bark of laughter. "Only since I was exonerated and Cami agreed to marry me." Sirius looked at me closely. "Have you had too much sun? My little sweetheart is ready to blow out her birthday candles, but I'll tell her Auntie Tonks needs to rest with Cousin Teddy a few minutes if you want to go in the house and lie down."

I realised that we were in my parents' back garden. Adults were standing or sitting in small groups while a group of children and several dogs were running around the grass popping the golden bubbles my father created with his wand. One little girl drew my gaze. She looked to be four or five, with straight black hair and a charming smile.

I looked from my sheath dress to Sirius's shirt and trousers. "Why is everyone wearing white?"

Sirius's grin turned indulgent as he pointed to the black-haired little girl dressed like a princess with butterfly wings. "Because Lily Angel Black wanted everyone to be angels for her party, just like her. That's why." He hugged me and then gave me a push toward the house. "You really are out of it. Go take a quick nap so we can cut the cake."

Mum and Cami were chatting with Lisa and Emmeline Vance, who wore her green shawl over a long, high-necked white dress. I returned their waves as I walked into the house. It was exactly the same as I remembered, and yet something felt different. I discovered the difference when I entered my old bedroom. Someone was sleeping in my bed.

The toddler looked to be between one and two years old. He was dressed in a sailor suit. I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hair. It was brown and silky, ending in baby curls. As small children do, he woke up. "Mum," he said, stretching out rounded little arms.

My heart leapt in recognition. "Teddy." I picked him up and rained kisses on his face.

Dark blue eyes stared into mine. "Cake," he said plainly.

I stood, settling him on my hip. "Wait until Daddy hears your new word. He'll write it down in your baby book in calligraphy."

Sirius, Morty and Kingsley were in the kitchen, laughing over a joke. "Good thing you didn't sleep," Sirius said, taking a container of ice cream out of the coolant cabinet. "For an angel, Lily is becoming devilishly impatient to blow out her candles."

"Cake!" said Teddy, lunging toward Morty.

My uncle caught the boy and rubbed the little nose with his. "My Sirius is clamouring for cake, too, along with the rest of the pack." Morty winked at me. "Shall I take him to join the cousins?"

"Please do," I said, trailing the men as they walked into the afternoon sunlight.

The moment I stepped foot outside, a cloud overshadowed the sun.

_"Nymphadora."_

The voice sounded so distant, and yet when I turned my head, I saw Remus standing only a few metres away. He wasn't wearing white, and the expression on his face made me want to burst into tears. In the background, voices were singing and then hands were clapping. I glared. "What's wrong with you? This is supposed to be a happy day, and you're ruining it!"

"Nymphadora, please, listen to me."

I blinked away the moisture threatening to spill. "Teddy!" I cried. "Teddy, come tell Daddy your new word!"

Remus's face crumpled as the little boy ran to him and clutched his trousers with dimpled hands.

"Cake, Daddy, cake!"

Tears coursed down Remus's face as he picked up his child and looked over to where Sirius was handing out slices of cake to a crowd of eager children.

I couldn't take it anymore. I ran into the house and slammed the door, closing my eyes to stem tears.

When I opened my eyes, I was in the entry of Grimmauld Place. I put a hand to my head, momentarily disoriented and confused. I looked down. I wasn't wearing white.

The mists of confusion cleared. I must have had some kind of dream after Bellatrix knocked me out. Obviously, I woke up and came straight here to find Sirius, who came back because he didn't want to be arrested. That was the only explanation that made sense.

"Sirius!" I yelled, running for the stairs to basement. He wasn't in the kitchen. I turned and headed upstairs again. He wasn't in the drawing room or the dining room. I called his name over and over as I checked the library, the spare bedrooms, and even the attic.

"Buckbeak!" I cried aloud. Sirius must be checking to see how the wing was mending.

The Hippogriff gave an enquiring chirp as I entered, but there was no one in the room with him.

I was starting to get really upset. "Maybe he fell asleep on his bed," I whispered, just to hear the sound of a voice, any voice, even my own. I pushed open my cousin's door to find yet another empty room.

_"Nymphadora."_

I knew it was Remus who was calling my name, even before I stepped onto the landing to see him staring up at me. His eyes were red and filled with an emotion so terrible, I couldn't bear to look at him.

"Sirius isn't here," he said in a broken tone that made me clap my hands over my ears.

"Don't say it!" I screamed, closing my eyes tightly. "I won't let you say it! I'll go where you can't find me!"

The world shifted.

Instead of standing in a house, I stood in a forest. As a wolf, I trotted toward a clearing, where I dropped down to lie on the flower-dotted grass. I placed my muzzle on my paws, drowsily listening to the rustling in the underbrush while the summer sun cast a golden sheen over the world.

Eventually, twilight came. Stars began to appear in the darkening sky. When a wolf padded into the clearing, I sprang to my feet. If he stepped toward me, I would run away, flee as far as my legs would carry me.

He didn't approach. He didn't move, except to lift his face toward the star that shone brighter than any other. He gazed upward for long moments and then began to howl.

I recognised the sound of anguish. It made me acknowledge a truth I couldn't deny any longer, however much I wanted to. We had lost a packmate, and no amount of pretending otherwise would change that shattering fact. Grief welled up, tearing at me with sharp claws. Overwhelmed by loss, my howl echoed my mate's, joining him in a song of mourning.

I awoke to find that I had been crying in my sleep. I could feel the dried tears; taste the new ones streaming down my face. In a chair beside my hospital bed, Remus slumped forward, his eyes closed, his hand holding mine. When I squeezed his fingers, his head jerked back, jolting him awake.

His eyes flew to mine, silently questioning.

I nodded. He had been in my dreams, and I while I didn't know the details, I knew why Remus had said, "Sirius isn't here."

Sirius was gone.

I ignored the pain in my body and held onto Remus, crying with him in mourning.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used the HP-Lexicon timeline for the dates, because the books don't always match the Muggle calendar, and I could imagine Tonks petitioning to change Hufflepuff colours to pink and black. After all, how many people really look good in yellow? I'm sure most readers know, but in case there are any who don't, Sirius, the Dog Star, shines twice as brightly as any other star in the night sky.


	30. In Sirius's Shadow

 

 

I cried for Sirius, for myself, and for all the people who loved him. I cried with increasingly painful, gulping sobs until a grey-haired mediwitch came into the room and used a sedative spell.

When I awoke, before my eyes opened, I reached for Remus's hand. The fingers I grasped felt wrong. Since when did Remus wear a signet ring? I cracked open my right eye and froze. I was holding hands with my boss! I decided to feign sleep.

Scrimgeour set my hand on the coverlet. "I know you're awake, Nymphadora."

"Tonks," I said automatically. I met his gaze and felt a shiver start at the top of my head. He was trying to use Legilimency. My tone and defences were frosty. "I know what you're trying to do."

A tawny eyebrow arched. "You're an excellent Occlumens."

Ha! I'd have to tell Snape he said that. Professor Snarky only seemed to believe in negative reinforcement. "Thanks." I glanced around. "Where's Remus?"

"I asked him to give us privacy. We have Ministry matters to discuss."

I widened my eyes, but I didn't have the nerve to say, " _No, really?"_

Scrimgeour's lips twitched.

We sat in silence that I was determined not to break. Let him stare at me all day if he liked. Red-eyed and pink nosed, with hair sticking up on end; I looked nothing like the glamorous Lola.

A few minutes later, he said, "What were you doing at the Ministry?"

"I got an anonymous tip that Death Eaters planned to attack."

"How odd. Moody and Shacklebolt said the exact same thing in their statements." His tone sharpened. "What was Lupin doing there?"

"He was with me when I received the tip."

"You brought an unauthorised—"

"Hey!" I said. "We went through proper channels. He got a visitor's badge."

Scrimgeour's expression hardened. "So did Sirius Black."

I had been doing such a good job of keeping my composure, but hearing Sirius's name brought tears to my eyes. I pressed my lips tightly together, determined not to cry in front of a man who had never cared about my cousin's innocence.

He slowly exhaled. "It seems that the Ministry was...mistaken...to believe Black a supporter of You-Know-Who. An official inquiry may eventually result, but as far as the Ministry is concerned, you were never there. I advise you to tell no one otherwise. The report of that night has been...misplaced...and there are other issues of more importance now that certain  _events_ have taken place."

A tear leaked from the corner of my eye. "It matters to  _me_ that certain  _events_ took place, damn it."

Scrimgeour handed me his handkerchief. "I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," I said, wiping my eyes. "What issues?"

Behind wire rims, his eyes gleamed. "My sources tell me that Fudge is going to hold a press conference. I fully expect the  _Sunday Prophet_  article to be the beginning of his downfall."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer bloke," I said, fiercely glad that the smarmy bastard was headed for ruin. Fudge was Malfoy's lackey—Voldemort's puppet, lulling the wizarding world into believing everything was fine when in reality it was teetering on the brink of war. "Do you need Lola to act hostess or accompany you to a party?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"This Sunday. I'm having a dinner to court those who stand undecided on whether to support the current Minister or vote to appoint a new one."

I told him honestly, "I don't know if I can morph right now."

"Try."

I concentrated and felt nothing. I had to cover my face with my hands so he wouldn't see me cry.

Scrimgeour laid his hand on my arm for a brief moment. "You used a hairbrush in my lavatory. If you do not recover your abilities, I will secure Polyjuice for you."

I took a steadying breath and used the handkerchief to mop up my tears. "With Polyjuice, even Mrs. Stevens could be Lola."

"No, she could not."

I had to smile a little. "Afraid Q will get jealous and stop making you gadgets?"

He huffed with amusement. "No." Scrimgeour was quiet for a moment and then said, "I've heard...rumours...of an Order that works against You-Know-Who. Would such an organisation support me for Minister?"

Politics had never been the topic of conversation at Order meetings. We had more pressing business. Besides, I wasn't comfortable admitting that there was an Order. The advantage of being covert would be lost if the Head of Aurors became involved. I answered the only way I could. "I support you."

His smile was wry. "Thank you." He pointed to an enormous basket across the room. "Mrs. Stevens sent a few things for you to nibble on and regain your strength."

"Looks like I'll be nibbling for a month. I appreciate it."

"It was nothing, and I could hardly bring flowers."

My short laugh was watery sounding. "Worried that the mediwitches would gossip?"

His look was dry. "Very."

The door to the room opened. Remus entered in the wake of an attractive mediwitch.

"Thank you for visiting, sir," I said formally, like a proper junior employee.

Scrimgeour's hand gripped his walking stick tightly as he levered himself to his feet. "What is her condition? When will Miss Tonks be discharged?" he asked the woman who smiled as she waved her wand in a diagnostic spell.

"I was just transferred from the fourth floor, but the head mediwitch told me tomorrow morning," she said cheerfully.

"Ah. Then I wish you a continued, speedy recovery," he told me, before inclining his head politely in Remus's direction and striding out of the room.

In the outer corridor, my boss stopped to allow what looked like a headless man to be escorted past him by a Healer.

"Vanishing sickness," said the woman taking my pulse.

"What floor am I on—Mediwitch Davis?" I asked, reading her nametag.

"Second, and whatever Magical Bug you had is quite gone now. You're in excellent health."

I waited until she left the room to say, "The Ministry is telling people I have a  _Magical Bug?_ Merlin only knows what Marsden will put in an office cartoon. Probably draw me as the Scrofungulus Metamorphmagus. _"_ When Remus sat on the edge of my bed, I threw my arms around him to get a much-needed hug. "Scrimgeour told me that the official report of the events has been  _misplaced._ As far as the Ministry is concerned, we were never there."

"What else did he say?"

I told him everything.

Remus's gaze was sombre. "I should relay the information to Dumbledore."

If he thought I would object, he was wrong. "OK." I rubbed the dark circles beneath his eyes with a fingertip. "You need to go home and sleep after you contact him, though."

"Grimmauld Place is no longer safe. Bellatrix is next in line to inherit the house."

It was an effort not to flinch. I could still hear her mocking "wittle Tonksie" echo in my mind. I wanted to make  _Auntie Bella_  pay and Kreacher with her. I said, "To me, home is wherever we can be together. Let my flat be our place now."

"Your parents—"

"Will understand," I said. "They know you mean everything to me." I tried to blink back tears, but they spilled over.

Remus cradled my face in his hands and kissed the tears away. "Very well," he said. "I only want my clothes and books, so it won't take me long to pack."

"Shrink your writing desk and bring it too." I tried to grin. It felt lopsided. "I love the way you look so Professor-y when you sit at it, penning deep thoughts in your journal."

A hint of a smile entered sad brown eyes. "Deep thoughts?"

"Very deep, I'm sure, except when your lips curve up at the corners." Remus smiled fleetingly when I demonstrated. I fluttered my eyelashes. "Confess. You do that when you're writing about how sexy I am, and how you can't resist me."

His lips brushed mine. "Perhaps." When my mouth fell open, he used the opportunity to kiss me thoroughly. "Read for yourself next time."

I would do anything to chase the shadows from his eyes, even if it was only for a few moments. "What if I'm naked?" I said in a vamp-y tone. "Won't I distract you?"

His gaze darkened. "Sometimes I long for a distraction more than anything."

I pulled him with me as I leaned back against the pillow. "I want to be distracted too."  _Distract me from thoughts of Sirius and the image of Cami crying herself to sleep._

Our kisses weren't tender. They were passionate, desperate. I wriggled my legs out from under the bedclothes in order to wrap them around Remus. I reached a hand toward the bedside table, feeling around blindly for my wand. I was going to ward the door shut and unfasten his trousers. I didn't care about foreplay. I didn't care about sexual fulfilment. All I wanted was to feel connected to him, heart and body.

I knocked something onto the floor. I heard the sound of glass breaking before an alarm sounded. Remus had rolled off me and stood beside the bed, breathing heavily, when a mediwitch and a Healer rushed into the room.

"Which one of you needs treatment for cardiac arrest?" the Healer shouted.

"Neither," I said, trying to surreptitiously pull down the hem of my hospital gown. "I accidentally knocked the thingy onto the floor."

All eyes seemed to focus on my bare legs. Did everyone know that I wasn't wearing knickers? I couldn't morph to conceal a deep blush.

Mediwitch Davis cleared her throat. "I'll take care of the mess, Healer Chase."

The youthful-looking Healer appeared relieved. "Yes. Thank you." He glanced around the room before asking her, "Where is the patient's chart?"

"She doesn't have one. Ministry orders."

The Healer's blue eyes turned steely. "The Ministry doesn't run St. Mungo's. Every patient has a chart." When no one commented, he asked the mediwitch, "Don't they?"

She finished clearing the mess, smiling gently as she said, "There's a patient with vanishing sickness in 2C, Healer Chase."

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Right," he said. "Good day."

When Remus and I were alone again, I said, "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. I didn't mean to cause  _that_  kind of distraction."

The smile on his lips was reflected in his eyes. I was so grateful that he could smile after everything that had happened; I almost burst into another round of tears. "You didn't embarrass me." He bent to press a kiss to my brow. "Before I go home to rest, would you like me to tell your parents...?"

"No, I—I'll tell them after I'm discharged and swear them to secrecy, since the official word is that we were never at the Ministry."

"That may be for the best." Remus smiled slightly. "I'll bring a change of clothes for you when I return."

"Could you bring a dress?" I asked. "Mum likes it when I look ladylike."

"All right."

I called out when he had almost reached the door, "Any colour but white."

Remus didn't ask why. He remembered the dream, and the birthday party that would never be. It was written in the deepened lines on his face as he nodded before leaving.

 

I was torn between crying and screaming at the unfairness of a world where bad things happened to good people while murderers went free. I threw my pillow across the room and wanted to throw a tantrum. A nice burst of psychic energy to melt the insipid picture of flowers likely purchased for the frame that matched the shade of green on the walls.

" _Accio_ pillow," I said, grabbing it out of the air with one hand before punching it with the other.

"What's the matter? Is your pillow lumpy?" Cami stood in the doorway with Kingsley Shacklebolt close behind her.

"The welcome witch informed her that you weren't listed as a patient, so she went to the Ministry," said Kingsley, reading my questioning look.

Cami said, "I would have demanded to see the Head of Aurors if Kingsley hadn't come up to the Atrium to see me."

I burst into tears. "Oh gods, I'm sorry, I'm so damned sorry!"

She rushed over to sit on the bed and hug me. "Don't be. It wasn't your fault, and—and there's still hope."

"I have to get back to the office. Good to see you looking well, Tonks. Take care, Cami," said Kingsley, closing the door.

Typical man—he avoided an emotional scene at all costs.

Cami didn't seem to notice that he’d left. She took my hands in hers and held them tightly as she listed all her reasons why Sirius could come back from the other side of the veil.

At first, I thought she was in a deep state of denial. After all, if Remus had fallen through the veil, wouldn't I be saying the same things? Somehow, though, the more I thought of how I would feel in her situation, the less far-fetched her reasoning became. Why  _couldn't_ love enable someone to do what no one else ever had? Maybe escaping Azkaban wasn't quite the same, but before Sirius had done it, hadn't everyone sworn that it could not be done?

"I need you to believe," Cami said, her voice cracking as tears filled her eyes. "I need to know that there's someone besides me who has faith that he can come back."

An image came to mind of hazel eyes dull with alcohol and pain. Cami was a recovering alcoholic. It would be so easy for her to give up sobriety, to drown her sorrow until she died of it. I wiped the moisture from my cheeks and sniffed. "My Gran says that faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see." I squeezed her hands gently. "I'll do my best to have faith, for you and for Sirius." The instant I said the words, I felt lighter, as though the weight of my grief had been eased.

Cami's lips trembled in a smile. "Tonks...you're pink!"

I slid off the bed and made my unsteady way to the loo. I braced one hand on the smooth edge of the sink, looking in the mirror while touching bubblegum-pink strands.

"It's like an omen, isn't it?" whispered Cami. "The last time this happened, Sirius was with us as Snuffles. This must mean he'll be with us again."

I had received some of my lowest marks in Divination because of my "cynical unbelief," but right now, I could honestly say, "I hope so." I hugged her so she wouldn't see how fragile my faith truly was. "With all my heart, I want him to come back."

Remus returned later that evening with a valise in one hand and a long-stemmed flower in the other. "I stopped by Jan's," he said, setting the small, overnight bag down. "When I saw the chocolate rose, I thought of you."

"I smell good and you want to gobble me up?"

A ghost of a wolfish smile crossed his face. "And I thought it might cheer you."

I patted the mattress. "Only if you share it with me."

I'd seen Muggle attempts at chocolate roses. Pitiful things, really, a single lump of chocolate moulded into rose form. This was a combination of chocolatier art and magic. Individual petals of rich chocolate formed a lush bloom that was as beautiful as it was delicious.

I fed Remus a petal before breaking off one for myself. The taste was neither bitter nor sweet, but dark perfection, smooth and strong. I smiled. "Thank you." I handed him another petal. "Have I told you today how much I love you?"

His lips tilted up at the corners. "You were asleep for most of the time we spent together."

"That's no excuse."

He plucked a chocolate rose petal. "You've told me now, and I love you too. Eat."

I nipped at his fingertips. "Yes, Professor."

Remus said, "I enjoyed being a teacher more than any other job I've ever had, yet in the future, only former pupils are likely to call me Professor Lupin."

I snapped off a petal. "That's a depressing attitude. Eat and be hopeful, if not merry."

He chewed and then said, "It's a realistic attitude, and I don't think I'll be merry for long, long time."

The sight of Sirius falling through the veil had to haunt him. I wasn't going to feel joyful, calling "Wotcher" out of cheerfulness instead of habit for a long while, either, but I did have hope, even if it was tremulous. "Cami's still hopeful," I said.

His eyes flickered over my hair. "I wondered if she had talked to you."

I refused to become an emotional teapot, spouting water all the time, but there was a lump in my throat when I said, "I'm going to try to have faith—for her sake."

"Only for her?"

I remembered the way Sirius had looked in my dream. "No. For me too."

"I've lost too many people that I loved to share your faith," Remus said heavily.

It was in his eyes, the shadow of grief. I put another piece of chocolate to his lips. "Then we'll talk of other things." I stuffed two chocolate petals into my mouth, just to see his gaze lighten over my effort to chew while keeping my mouth closed. I probably looked like a deranged squirrel with cheeks filled with nuts.

"What would you like to talk about?"

I said what was on the tip of my tongue—literally. "Chocolate. D'you know why it's so good for you?"

"The effects are more pronounced in wizards, but even for Muggles, chocolate contains a substance that promotes healthy blood flow and blood pressure," Remus said, slipping into his professor voice. "It can prevent clogged arteries and reduce blood clots." He smiled slightly. "As you can imagine, I ate a lot of chocolate growing up, and was quite interested in the science behind the magical properties."

I could easily imagine him teaching a class, holding all the girls' rapt attention.

"There are bioactive compounds that lessen pain and increase wellbeing," he said. "I was very thankful for that, even when I couldn't afford the highest quality of chocolate."

I leaned forward and kissed him. "I almost wish I had been your student, just so I could've listened to you every day."

"Good thing you weren't my student, if listening to me produces that kind of reaction." His lips curved. "On second thought, I could have simply eaten more chocolate—to check my elevated blood pressure—whenever you gave me a sultry look."

"Sultry doesn't do me much good here," I said, with a resentful glare at the door. Mediwitch Davis had informed me matter-of-factly, after checking my vitals an hour ago, that the doors were spelled against being warded shut, in case I was wondering. She appeared amused when I muttered that I'd never thought about it.

I set the remnants of the chocolate rose on the bedside table and patted the mattress. "Get comfy."

"I'm not sure that's a prudent—"

"Tell me a story," I said. "One of the ones your mother translated into Latin." I sighed. "I don't understand much of what you say, but I love the way you say it." When he still seemed undecided, I resorted to puppy-dog eyes. "Please? It would help me rest."

Within moments, I was snuggled against his side, eyes half shut, listening to the tale of  _TRES PORCELLI._

" _Olim anus porca tres filios misit qui suam fortunam invenirent,"_ Remus began, in his husky, captivating voice. " _Primus porcellus viro multum stramenti portanti occurit."_

Soothed by my love's tone and the warmth of his body, it was easy to fall into a daydream.

_I was lying in bed with Remus, enjoying the sound of his voice as he read aloud to our son. As always, fairytales were told in both the English and Latin versions. I drew in a deep breath. Fine brown curls smelled of those indescribable, wonderful scents young children had. Brown hair streaked with grey smelled of an earthy, woodsy shampoo._

_A dimpled finger pointed to the book's illustration. Remus’s face creased in a wide smile when our son said, "Porcellus, Daddy!"_

_"That's right, Teddy," said Remus. He continued with the story. "'Quaeso,' ait porcellus..."_

_I waited until mischievous blue eyes looked my way to morph a pig's snout. The peal of childish laughter brought my husband's gaze to my face. "What's next?" he asked teasingly, "The snout of a magnus malus lupus?"_

_"Not if you promise to huffabo et puffabo to both our satisfaction after we tuck Teddy into his own bed."_

_His wolfish grin made my pulse leap in anticipation._

The longing I felt for that daydream to become a reality made me misty-eyed. Not wanting Remus to see, I closed my eyelids and let his voice lull me into a true sleep.

 

Saturday morning before I was released from the hospital, I changed into the sundress Remus had chosen. It was a pink silk slip dress a shade lighter than my hair. There were high heeled sandals to match. I had paid more for the shoes than the dress, which was a bit plain for my taste, but since I had a "can't find something to pair them with, can't buy them" rule about shoes, buying the dress was the only way I could justify the purchase that I  _really_ wanted to make.

I secretly thought I looked like a woman trying to impress her boyfriend's parents that she was a nice girl, but Remus smiled in approval, so I resisted the impulse to add a few brighter pink streaks to my hair. Besides, Mum preferred understated elegance. The least I could do was dress to please her.

Her expression was far from pleased when she opened the door. I was reminded of the summer after seventh year when Julia, Tom, Evan and I had stayed out all night celebrating our freedom. Mum had the same dark shadows beneath her eyes and the same icy tone in her voice when she said, "Aren't you a little old to be worrying others so thoughtlessly?"

Why had I told Remus that my mother was such a private person, it would embarrass her to break down in front of him? Then I remembered: Mum was like that, and I wanted to protect Remus from having to be the bearer of any more bad news.

As I stared at her, I relied on Auror training that had only reinforced my teenaged habit of never volunteering information. "What do you mean?"

She stepped back into the entry, her tailored white shirt and black trousers accentuating the stern cast to her face. "Your Auror partner stopped by late last night. He was very concerned when his owls came back undelivered and you sent no word of your condition to your friends and colleagues." Her voice softened as she led the way to the kitchen, but it was for Jerry, not for me. "Poor boy thought you were recuperating from a  _Magical Bug_  under your parents' care, when you were not listed as a patient at St. Mungo's."

Mum pointed to a bouquet of hot pink gerberas and orange lilies on the table loaded with the baked goods she'd conjured—one of her ways of coping with of stress. "He left the flowers for you, and I think deserves an apology along with an explanation."

Her imperiously raised eyebrow told me  _she_ expected an apology and explanation too. While I tried to find the words to tell her what had happened, my father walked in, still dressed in his robe.

"Good morning, Sunshine," he said, before taking a closer look at my face. "What's wrong?"

"Your father was asleep when Mr. Connelly paid a visit," Mum said.

Dad gave her a questioning look. "You were wearing that outfit last night." His gaze travelled over the array of chocolate biscuits, tortes, and cakes. "Why didn't you come to bed, love?"

Only Mum could be wrinkle-free and spotless after a night of baking. "I didn't want to disturb your sleep."

"I feel like I'm watching one of those foreign films where I missed a few subtitles," said Dad. He asked me bluntly, "What did you do to make your mother worry?"

A wave of guilt crashed over me. "I didn't stop Bellatrix when I had the chance," I said, trying in vain not to cry.

Within seconds, Mum was across the room, holding my face in her hands. "When did you see my sister?"

It tumbled out, the story of Sirius bursting in with the news that Harry believed him held captive at the Ministry. When I came to the part where Bellatrix gloated that she would kill Sirius, I couldn't speak coherently any longer. I was weeping too heavily. "I sh—should have...she... _Sirius_..."

"What about him?" Mum whispered.

"Remus told me Sirius f—fell behind the veil."

Dad wrapped his arms around the both of us, crying unashamedly.

My mother's eyes were glassy with tears. "Damn them all," she said in a choked voice. "Damn Bellatrix, damn those Death Eaters, damn that madman they serve, and damn the Ministry for causing this to happen!"

"Damn me, too, Mum. I sh—should've stopped her!"

Her expression became fierce. "You are in no way to blame for what happened! Bellatrix has always hated Sirius." She kissed my forehead gently. "I'm thankful you're alive, and don't you dare feel guilt that belongs to another!" Tears slipped down her face as she turned to bury her head on my father's chest.

It wrenched my heart to see her shoulders shake. "I have to go."

Dad said, "Come back for dinner. Bring Remus. I'll put something on the barbeque and you can help us eat all this chocolate."

"May I bring my friend Cami? She—"

"Of course." Mum's voice trembled. "I—I have a few pictures that she might like."

"She's hoping he'll come back," I said hesitantly.

"Oh, gods, Sirius,  _Sirius!"_ Mum cried, finally breaking down into sobs.

 

I rushed out of the back door and stood in the back garden until I was calm enough to Apparate. So many people were hurting, and if I couldn't get my hands on the one who sent Sirius through the veil, I knew where to find the one who had betrayed him.

On the pavement in front of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, I transfigured my dress into black robes and morphed my features to resemble the one person my quarry would fling the door open for—the person he believed to be his new mistress. It was almost as though I had donned Bellatrix's personality along with her appearance. I bared my teeth in a feral smile as I gave the door a single, sharp rap.

Remembering the hateful sound of her voice, I pitched mine lower and called, " _KREACHER!"_

 


	31. Realms of Shadow

 

 

I listened intently as Kreacher undid five of the locks. I didn't really want him to fling open the door. When he hesitated to release the final bolt, a cold eagerness filled my veins. He had given me what I needed, the excuse to push into the entry and strike him across the face as hard as I could.

_Thwack!_

"You vile piece of filth! How dare you think of denying me entrance?"

The elf's watery eyes gleamed as he lifted a hand to caress the drooping skin I had slapped. I expected him to cringe and apologise. Instead, he dropped to his knees, lifting the hem of my robes to his lips. "Kreacher has a new Mistress!" he cried, pressing his snout-like nose to the fabric as he kissed it.

I had planned to get the details of his betrayal, but looking down at Kreacher's hunched back, I was afraid of what I would do if he told me. The "Black streak" in my nature was flaring. Too easily, righteous anger could become twisted into a desire to hurt Kreacher. I'd enjoy it too—just like my  _Auntie Bella_. I'd stand there and smile as he writhed in pain.

The mental image caused my voice to be rough. "Don't touch me!" I pushed Kreacher away with my foot.

He clutched my shoe tight, to kiss it, most likely. Then the colour seemed to throw him off balance. He dropped my foot, the red veins almost popping out of his eyes as he stared up at me.

Sneering felt like second nature. "Haven't you heard? Pink is the new black."

"You're not Bellatrix," he whispered.

I returned my features to normal. "I never said I was."

One of the knobbly hands resting on a dirty loincloth reached up to stroke his face. "You hurt me." His voice wasn't accusing. It was wondering and downright creepy.

_"You betrayed Sirius! You betrayed your Master!"_

The old elf didn't cower when I yelled in his face. He rose to his feet, his expression defiant. "He was not my true Master. He was a blood-traitor, and now he is gone, his things is gone, and Kreacher is  _glad_."

"Where are Sirius's things?"

He didn't answer, tempting me to start hexing to make him talk.

Maybe the look in my eye loosened his tongue. "First the beast, then the old wizard came and took some of the blood-traitor's belongings." While I was belatedly remembering Remus telling me about packing a small trunk for Cami to store at her flat, Kreacher said gloatingly, "I rid the house of the rest."

A chill ran down my spine. "What did you do to Buckbeak?"

"The old wizard took the Hippogriff. I care not where."

I didn't trust the liar. I had to see for myself.

"Where is you going?" Kreacher grabbed the skirt of my robes.

I shoved him away and headed for the stairs.

 

Buckbeak's suite was empty. A dead ferret lay in a corner, as if dinner had been abandoned dinner in the haste to fly away. I left it to rot; averting my eyes from the tub I could see from the opened door to the bathroom. As I walked toward Sirius's room, a recent memory surfaced.

_Remus ran the water while I reached for the flagon of bubble bath. It was empty._

_"Damn it, Sirius!" I said, projecting my voice with a Sonorous Charm. "Why didn't you tell me you'd used up the bubbles?"_

_His reply echoed in the tiled chamber. "Technically, I didn't. There's still a bit left in the bottom."_

_"What good's a handful of bubbles going to do us?"_

_Boisterous laughter rang out. "Use your imagination and stop interrupting my nap."_

_I was still sulking when Remus plucked the flagon out of my hand and put it directly beneath the faucet. He murmured a spell. Bubbles spilled out of the container, falling into the tub and floating around the room._

_I smiled. "You can do a lot with a little, can't you?"_

_Remus shrugged. "I've always had to make things stretch." He set the flagon down and pulled me into his arms. "Of course, when I'm given a lot, I can do even more."_

_I undid the tie to his robe. "Yeah? Me too."_

_He grinned._

_"Disengage the Charm, minx! You're giving me nightmares!"_

_I hurriedly performed a Counter Charm to the Sonorous. When my eyes met Remus's, our laughter filled the air._

I released a shaky breath and opened the door to Sirius's room. It was empty. The bed, wardrobe, desk and chairs were gone. Only peeling wallpaper and threadbare green carpets remained. The sight was like a punch in the stomach. I clutched my middle, fighting back tears. Even if Sirius hadn't been a kind master, he didn't deserve such treatment.

I turned on my heel and headed for the basement. I called Kreacher every foul name I'd ever heard, silently, because I didn't want to give him any warning. Remus wouldn't approve of what I planned to do, but Sirius would.

In the kitchen, I stalked over to the cupboard that housed Kreacher's den and pulled open the door. " _Accio photographs!_ "

Out flew a motley collection of broken and dented frames with Black family members looking startled or disdainful to be treated so cavalierly. With a flick of my wand, I sent them clattering onto the tabletop. The tinkle of breaking glass was music to my ears.

Kreacher Apparated beside the kitchen table, scrabbling to pick up the photographs. "What is you doing?" he cried angrily.

"Getting a rat out of his hole." I sent an  _Incendio_ hurtling down to engulf his den in flames. Everything in the cubby-hole was reduced to ash.

"NO!" he wailed, cradling the picture frames to his chest, rocking back and forth. Tears streamed down his face. "Mistress' wedding dress! All the family treasures Kreacher saved is gone!"

 _"Sirius is gone!"_ I scrunched up my face, trying desperately not to cry. "You betrayed him, and I'm going to make you pay."

He placed the frames on the table, holding out his arms to show where broken glass had cut his skin. "Is you going to hurt me again? Kreacher does not fear pain."

Of course he didn't. He liked it. I shook my head and pivoted toward the basement stairs.

Kreacher followed. "What is you going to do?"

The sound of his voice reverberating off the stones was so hateful; I wanted to blast him down the steps. I kept climbing.

In the upstairs corridor, my gaze fell on the portrait of Mrs. Black. The velvet curtains were open now. Kreacher must think his dreams had come true. He was alone with his Mistress. I wished with all my heart that I could destroy her painting the way I'd destroyed her possessions.

"The half-blood freak can do nothing," I heard Kreacher mutter. "She is not a true Black."

The eyes of the portrait rolled my way. Eerily silent, the black gaze seemed to challenge mine. Would I find a way to repay a traitor in kind? I thought of my mother sobbing, of Remus's face lined with sadness and Cami clinging to hope like a lifeline. Grimly, I tamped down my softer emotions. I glanced at Kreacher. He looked at Walburga with such adoration; an idea slithered into mind and coiled around me, poisonous and perfect.

I strode toward the door. "Enjoy the togetherness while you can," I threw over my shoulder.

Kreacher appeared at my side, round eyes wary as he watched me undo the locks on the front door. "What is you meaning by that?"

I slid the last bolt open. "Sounding nervous, Kreacher. Why? Are you afraid I might be  _Black_ enough to make you suffer?" I jerked open the door. "Count on it."

"What is you going to do?"

I turned in the doorway to face him. "I'm going to do to you what you've done to Cami. I'm going to separate you from the one you love most."

"You have no power. Bellatrix will be my new mistress."

His tone didn't match his words. I ruthlessly played upon his uncertainty. "Not if Sirius left everything to Harry Potter."

Kreacher paled. "He is not family. The magic—"

"Will allow a godson to inherit," I said, making a claim that I could only pray was true. "And when he does, Harry will send you away from here."

He swayed, as if from shock. "Where?"

I said the first place I could think of. "Hogwarts."

"No!"

" _Yes,_  and every House-elf there will know what you have done, and they will despise you for it almost as much as I do."

Kreacher glared, but his voice wavered. "You is saying this, but you will not do it."

I closed the door in his face. Let the bastard worry that his days at Grimmauld were numbered. I would do whatever it took to ensure that they were.

 

I used a spell to change black robes into the original pink dress and Apparated to the Owl Post Office. After purchasing a quill and parchment, I walked over to a writing table and wrote a letter to Albus Dumbledore. He was the one who could find out who inherited the house and Kreacher along with it. If he suggested that Harry send the elf to Hogwarts to keep Order secrets safe, the boy would listen. For all I knew, Dumbledore already had such a plan in mind, but it wouldn't hurt to add my thoughts on the matter.

When the Great Grey carrying my letter began his flight to Scotland, I made my way to the Central Floo Station. The moment I stepped onto the hearth in my flat— _our flat—_ I saw Remus sitting at his desk. He had placed it against the front wall where a decorative, useless entry table once stood. He set aside his journal to rise and enfold me into his arms.

At once, my world seemed to right itself. Remus and I were together, and that was all that mattered. I burrowed closer, deciding to tell him about Kreacher later.

"How are your parents?"

"Coping the best they can." I gave a watery laugh. "They want us to come over for dinner later and invited Cami. Mum has p—pictures." I closed my eyes to hold back tears. They trickled out the corners of my eyelids anyway.

Remus's arms tightened around me. "I had two visitors while you were gone," he said. "Morty was the first."

"Did you tell him?" I whispered, feeling awful that I hoped he had.

"Yes." I felt his lips brush my hair. "He said he would go see Andromeda right away."

I had a feeling that tonight's dinner would resemble an Irish wake. Sirius would like that, especially if there was Firewhisky involved. "Who was your second visitor?"

"Jerry Connelly." He gestured to the orange and pink poppies in a vase on the desk. "He left those when I said you were sleeping in the bedroom and couldn't be disturbed." Remus made a huff of wry amusement. "I believe he considers me to be purposefully keeping you isolated from family and friends out of an obsessive desire to have you all to myself."

"You're kidding." I looked up. Serious amber eyes told me that he wasn't. "I'll owl him later," I said, "and tell him the Bug gave me spots and I was too vain to let anybody see me." When Remus's lips curved, I kissed him tenderly. "I'll leave out my desire for you to have me as often as you like."

He shook his head. "You need—"

"I need you," I said baldly. "I need to touch you and love you, to feel your skin on my skin." I kissed him again, this time aggressively, twining my arms around his neck.

"Nymphadora," he said huskily, "Are you sure?"

Because I had only been discharged from the hospital that morning—because I was an emotional wreck? Hell, yes, I was sure. I fumbled to unzip my dress while using my tongue persuasively.

Remus's hands covered mine and then gently took over. My fingers found new work unfastening buttons. I tugged his shirt from his trousers and pushed it off his shoulders, smoothing my hands along the planes of his chest. He felt so good. I needed that solid warmth to fill the empty places inside me. "Did the Marauders ever come up with a spell for instantly removing clothes?"

His mouth firmed against mine, parting my lips with hungry desire. I was thankful that the answer to my question was yes.

 

Later that evening, I was profoundly grateful that everyone shared stories of Sirius's life, but no one talked about his death—for my sake as well as Cami's. I missed him so much. Hearing about Sirius streaking through a Black family gathering at age two, out-cheating Mundungus at poker, pranking Slytherins, and nicking roses as Snuffles was simultaneously wonderful and heart-wrenching. My throat ached from all the tears I held back. Seeing the pictures Mum had found made it impossible to eat more than a few bites. After dinner, when I heard Cami ask Lisa if she could hold the baby, I had to leave the room.

Remus found me in the garden.

He wrapped his arms around me. "It's hard for me too," he said quietly. "It's painful, knowing what could have been."

"What's going to happen if he doesn't come back?" I leaned my forehead against his shoulder, not wanting my tears to soak his shirt.

"Life will go on."

"I don't want life to go on!" I tried to push away, but Remus held fast. "I want to go back and change things!"

"You can't." His voice was husky with restrained emotion. "None of us can, although I wish we could with all my being."

"I'm sorry." I hugged him as hard as I could. "I'm being selfish again, consumed with how I feel when you're hurting too."

"You're not selfish. You're grieving. We all are." Remus brushed his lips across my brow, my cheeks, and my lips.

The back door opened. "Dromeda's serving coffee and dessert in the lounge." Morty's voice gained a shadow of his usual Black humour when he added, "If you're done practising mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."

"We were practising Tonsil Quidditch, thank-you-very-much," I said cheekily, pecking Remus on the lips before strolling toward the door. I morphed a few hot pink streaks at the front of my hair, just to reassure myself that I could.

"I don't even want to know what position you play." Morty's grumble lifted my spirits in a weird way.

I gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. "I'm the Seeker, and he's definitely a Keeper."

"I said I didn't want to know!" he called after me.

I held onto my smile, even after I returned to the lounge and saw that Cami had rocked baby Sirius to sleep in her arms.

 

In the middle of the night, I awoke in a panic, scared that Remus had been taken away by faceless Death Eaters. I knew it wasn't true the moment my hand touched his arm, but I continued to shake. I curled against his side and then draped my arm and leg across him, trying to counter residual fear with the solid proof that he was beside me.

"Nymphadora?"

I loved to hear Remus whisper my name, but not when his tone was filled with concern. He had enough burdens without me adding more. Beneath the sheet, I slid my thigh along his, my fingers playing with the silky hair on his chest. "Mmm?"

"Did you have a bad dream?"

Surely an evasion was better than an outright lie. "Shhh... You'll wake me up before the dream gets good." My hand made lazy sweeps across Remus's skin before trailing down to his abdomen. I circled his bellybutton with a fingertip. "I was just about to..."

"What?"

I smiled to hear the smile in his voice. "I'd rather show you." It only took a moment to wriggle closer in order for my mouth to part his in a kiss.

The darkness heightened the sensuality of our lovemaking. The taste of his lips, the feel of his body, the clean, musky scent of his skin and the sound of his voice whispering my name became elements of a "dream" that was intensely satisfying, because it was shared.

 

The next evening, I was trying to decide between a short black cocktail dress and a long halter gown when I heard the front door chime. Remus came into the bedroom carrying a rectangular box. "It's from Scrimgeour." He placed the vanilla-coloured box on the mattress and handed me an envelope. "A message came with it."

I broke the seal and quickly scanned the note before showing it to Remus.

**Wear this tonight.**

I made a face. "I should be insulted that he doesn't trust my taste, but I guess the boss wants to make sure his employee dresses the part."

"Exactly what role does he expect you to play?"

He didn't have to tell me that he thought Scrimgeour shouldn't have asked me to do anything so soon after traumatising events. I read it in his tone and the set expression on his face.

I didn't have to tell him that I needed the distraction and the money. He knew. I reached down to untie the silk ribbon and remove the top of the box. "Let's see." I lifted out a floor-length, ivory gown with an empire waist and a deep, shirred V-neck. Sequins and beads sparkled in a silvery band around the high waist and on the straps that made a V in the back. "Trophy partner, I s'ppose, to complete his image of a take-charge man of action." I held the dress to my body. "I'll have to morph a light tan to set off the—"

"Cleavage?"

I snorted at his dry tone. "Yeah, and I'd better change out of these black frilly bits, too."

"That dress looks too form-fitting to allow a bra."

I checked the bodice. "It's fully lined."

Remus didn't comment.

I laid the dress on the bed and walked over to slip my arms around his waist. "I'm not thrilled over the thought of having dirty old men stare at my baps either, but it won't be  _my_ breasts on display—it'll be Lola's." I gave him a quick smooch. "And if you want, I'll morph inverted nipples so even if the support spell's crap and the room's spelled to be ice cold—"

A bark of laughter cut me off. "That won't be necessary." Remus's lips twitched. "Could you really do it?'

I unfastened my bra, grinning.

 

The smile I gave when Scrimgeour suggested I leave the men to their after-dinner cigars was sweet and agreeable—and entirely faked. I still hadn't shaken off the weird vibe I'd picked up the moment I Apparated into the back garden and saw my boss lounging in a chair, sipping a glass of Firewhisky. He didn't have robes on, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up.

_"Am I early?" His intent stare made me nervous, in a gazelle-wanting-to-edge-away-from-a-lion kind of way._

_He gestured to the cushioned lounger beside him. "No. I set the time early to give us a chance to talk."_

_Talk about the job? That made sense. I sat, making sure not to crease my dress. "The gown is lovely," I said. "Is it for decorative purposes, or do you hope to distract someone?"_

_Scrimgeour lifted his drink. "Decorative, although I'm sure quite a few of our guests will be distracted by your beauty."_

_I blew on my knuckles and rubbed them against a bodice strap. "My metamorphosing is tops, isn't it?"_

_He took a sip of whisky. "Yes, it truly is. May I offer you a drink?"_

_"With my luck, I'd spill the beer down my front, so no, thank you."_

_"Beer?" Scrimgeour chuckled._

_"Yeah, doesn't the Head of Aurors drink beer? Or is too common for a future Minister's elevated palate?"_

_He took the ribbing good-naturedly. "You sound like a reporter from the Quibbler, trying to fish for a story with a baiting comment. I drink ale or lager on occasion at Quidditch matches." His expression sobered. "Times the way they are, I'm not sure when I'll be able to attend another match."_

_"You could always drink a beer while listening to the wireless."_

_"Yes, I could."_

_I got the impression that he wouldn't. Since I knew better than to show that I felt sorry for him, I changed the subject. "So, what's on the agenda tonight?"_

The agenda had been simple. Scrimgeour chatted with key Wizengamot and community leaders while I stood around looking gorgeous, my opal bracelet verifying that the men were telling the truth. I was the only woman invited, so I felt uneasily on display.

When I left the dining room, I headed to the kitchen. Inside, I found Mr. and Mrs. Stevens seated at the centre work table, having a cup of tea.

I told her, "Dinner was amazing. I would've eaten more if it wouldn't have ruined my ladylike image."

She smiled. "Thank you. Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"Yes, please."

I enjoyed asking the couple nosy questions about the different kinds of spells it took to keep a house like this clean, and where the ideas for all Q's nifty gadgets came from much more than I had conversing with a hypochondriac Wizengamot member. I was still marvelling that anyone would know  _hundreds_ of householdy spells when Scrimgeour joined us. He had removed his dress robes and rolled up his shirtsleeves once more.

Mr. and Mrs. Stevens immediately rose to their feet. "Do any of the guests require assistance departing, sir?" asked Stevens.

"No, they were all sober enough to Apparate or Floo home."

The married couple exchanged amused glances.

"If you will bring tea to the library," Scrimgeour said to Mrs. Stevens, gesturing for me to precede him up the basement stairs.

"Yes, sir, at once."

I said, "Thanks for everything."

Upstairs, I declined the offer of another cup when Mrs. Stevens set a silver tea tray on the library desk. I didn't want to have to dash for the loo in the middle of our employer-employee chat.

After the housekeeper withdrew, Scrimgeour said, "It's settled. Fudge will be forced to resign, and I will be appointed the next Minister for Magic."

"That's great! You're what they need. Someone who's fought against Death Eaters." He wasn't smiling. I asked, "Aren't you happy? Isn't this what you've worked for?"

"Yes."

I was struck again by the vibe that something was wrong. "What is it? Did you have to agree to a concession that you didn't want to make?"

He smiled faintly. "No. I agreed to a concession I’d planned from the start and fully expected to concede tonight. I merely failed to realise how much I'd regret the necessity."

The gold bracelet on my wrist remained cool to the touch. He was telling the truth. Suddenly, the reason for the dress I was wearing, the wistful note in his voice, and the odd vibe became clear. "You have to dump Lola, right?"

"The public, as well as the more conservative members of the Wizengamot, prefer to have a Minister who is dedicated to the point of sacrificing personal relationships." His lips twisted wryly. "It inspires trust and confidence."

"Which was the real reason you hired me."

"Yes."

"Not to be your bodyguard, but to convince everyone that you're wholly committed to the Ministry." I spoke calmly, but inside I was starting to unravel. I had counted on this job to last long enough to build up the savings I'd depleted. I had also thought Scrimgeour valued my Auror skills. Instead, I was out of a job that I only got by being a Metamorphmagus.

"The official statement will be an amicable parting of the ways." He reached into a drawer and handed me an envelope. "A bonus...and an apology."

Another, higher-minded person might have turned down the Galleons, but I took the paid to bearer certificates, even as I said, "You never promised me a long contract."

"It was implied."

I shoved a tendril that had fallen down behind my ear. "The poison in your drink. Was that real or a set up?"

"Very real."

"Good." When his eyebrows rose, I said, "Nobody wants to be just a pretty face."

Scrimgeour smiled a little. "I have never regarded you that way."

I stood. "Well, I—I guess I'll see you around the Ministry." I laughed self-consciously. "Not as Lola, of course." Awkwardly, I held out my hand.

He took my hand in both of his. "Of course."

I glanced down and noticed the bracelet. I pulled away to slide it off my wrist and put it on the desk. "Tell Q thanks for the loan, and for being so nice."

"Tell him yourself."

"No, I'm a little...emotional...right now. I'd probably start crying and embarrass him to death." I blinked back tears. "Everything is changing so fast when I wanted things to stay the s—same." I brushed away the moisture that escaped and turned toward the fireplace. "Goodnight."

His voice was a low rasp. "Goodbye."

 

Remus was stretched out on the sofa, reading one of his beloved texts, when I stumbled into the room. I shook my head when he asked what was wrong. I couldn't talk. I was afraid that I'd start crying and not be able to stop. In the bedroom, I morphed my body and took off the dress. Carefully, I placed it into the nest of tissue paper before closing the box and retying the ribbon. Scrimgeour could throw out the dress for all I cared, but I was sending it back tomorrow.

"Talk to me."

I picked up the envelope I'd tossed onto the coverlet and held it out. I found that if I didn't look at Remus, and I took shallow breaths, I had enough control to whisper, "Scrimgeour is going to be appointed Minister. To prove his dedication, he's giving up Lola. That's my severance pay...and an apology."

There was a rustle. "Do you know how many Galleons these notes represent?"

"No."

He named a figure that was staggering—more than I'd hoped to earn in the next six months. "Are you going to keep it?"

I bit my lip, nodding.

The sound of his heavy sigh tore me apart. I fled to the bathroom and engaged the shower charm.

"Nymphadora, I'm not judging you. You did it for me."

I stood beneath the spray, hoping that my crying was muffled by the noise of the water.

"I'm coming in!"

I tried to grab the soap and pretend I'd been taking a shower. The bar slipped from my hand, falling to the tiles and bouncing toward Remus.

He bent to pick it up. "Looks like you need some assistance." He set the soap on the edge of the sink and undressed. "Let me help you, love."

I allowed him to wash me, docilely tipping my head back to allow the shampoo to rinse out of my hair. When he led me out of the shower, I huddled into the bath sheet draped around me, watching Remus dry off. "I'm cold."

He immediately began rubbing my skin with the cotton towelling. "Better?"

I stepped closer. "I want your skin to warm me."

He steered me into the bedroom.

Within moments, he’d stashed the garment box beneath the bed and turned down the covers. I snuggled as close to him as possible. Eyes closed, listening to his heartbeat, I wanted to stay in Remus's arms forever. Warmth, security, and love kept sorrow at bay. I placed my hand over the fingers stroking my arm and brought his hand to my lips. "I love you."

"I love you." I was beginning to drift off to sleep when he said, "When you're ready to talk, I'm here. If you can't find the words, I'll make an appointment for you with Healer Wells."

Part of me wanted to snap that I didn't need a bloody medishrink. The rest of me was tired, sad, and found the idea of talking with the woman who reminded me of my Gran comforting. "OK."

 

The next morning, after a dreamless sleep, I felt able to handle going back to work. "Besides," I told Remus over breakfast, "I forgot to owl Jerry. By now he's probably imagining me on my death bed."

"Or imagining you tied to the bedposts, a prisoner to your lover's desire."

I almost choked on a sip of coffee. "Are you trying to seduce me into staying home? Because if you are, I might go next door and ask to borrow a couple of scarves."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were shadowed. "It's only been a few days since...everything happened. I'm concerned that you're doing too much too soon."

"If I can't take the stress, I'll come home. All right?"

"All right. I'll be here, waiting on the morning post. I owled Will last night, inquiring about his flatmate." One corner of his mouth turned up. "Dumbledore is eager for me to begin my mission."

I wasn't. That went without saying, however. I pushed to my feet, leaning over to kiss him. "See you later."

Everyone I saw once I stepped through the double doors of the Auror Office seemed to be glad that I was back, although a few eyed me speculatively, as if wondering whether the Magical Bug I'd had manifested in places other than the extremities.

Kingsley smiled when I ducked into his cubicle to say hello. "You're looking in the pink of health."

I patted bubblegum-coloured spikes. "Ta, thanks." I noticed that there wasn't a gold hoop in his ear. My stomach twisted. "Don't tell me you've given up the earring. It looked good on you."

A look of surprise crossed his face. "I must have forgotten to put it in." His deep voice was filled with understanding. "Don't worry, everything around here hasn't changed."

I didn't want to talk about what had changed. "Better go earn my lavish salary. Bye."

I had arrived earlier than both Tom and Julia, but Jerry was in his cubicle, reading a file. He grinned when I rapped on the partition wall. "Tonks! You're back!" He rose to his feet, smile dimming. "Where have you been? Why didn't you owl?" His face reddened when I didn't answer. "Did you think no one would notice if you didn't show up to work? Even if your friends didn't rate an explanation, the least you could have done was contact your mother!"

"I'm sorry."

Jerry stepped around the desk. "You're sorry? That's it? You drop off the face of the earth for days and all you can say is  _sorry_?"

I was holding onto composure by my fingernails. "I'm sorry I worried you. I was—"

"You didn't have a Magical Bug," he cut in. "I did some research. No one gets a Bug and recovers over a weekend. What really happened?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why? Is it Lupin? Did he threaten you?"

" _No!_ Remus loves me!"

"Isn't that what abusers always say?"

In other circumstances, I would have laughed. The idea of Remus as an abusive boyfriend was ridiculous. Today, I got misty-eyed. "He takes care of me. He would never hurt me. You don't understand—"

"Make me understand."

"I  _can't._ "

He crossed his arms across his chest. "Then maybe you should ask for another partner, one that doesn't give a damn whether you trust him or not."

I could feel my face starting to crumple.

Jerry strode past me. "Fine. I'll go get the paperwork."

I caught his sleeve. "Don't." He tried to pull away, but I wouldn't let go. "Don't do it." My vision was blurry with tears. "Don't leave me." Why was everyone leaving me? It was too much. I broke down, crying so hard that my ribs ached.

I heard the sound of running footsteps. Julia burst into the cubicle. "I could hear you two all the way down the corridor. What the hell's going on?"

"I—we—she's upset," Jerry said, patting my back.

"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock," Julia snapped.

Behind her, Tom asked, "What can we do?"

"Healer Wells," I said. "I need to see Healer Wells."

"I'll send my Patronus," Tom said.

Julia wrapped her arm around my shoulder. "I'll help her to the lift."

Jerry cleared his throat. "I'm not going anywhere, Tonks."

I released my white-knuckled grip on his sleeve. "Promise?"

"I promise."

I walked back down the corridor with Julia, keeping my eyes down, avoiding curious stares. I felt numb after the release of emotion, and didn't care if I was gossiped about, or became the subject of another office cartoon. The numbness lasted even after Julia checked me in at the Healer's and then knelt to hug me before she went back to work. "Anything you need, any way I can help, I'm here for you." Her eyes were shiny when she said, "I'm going to send my Patronus to Remus and let him know what happened."

"OK."

I felt the stare of another patient as I gazed unseeingly at the carpet. How ironic that last year I had been the one looking at others, wondering what I was doing in this place.

"Miss Tonks, you can go back now."

I sat in the same comfy chair I had before and looked across at the Healer who had the same aura of serenity as my Gran. "You cut your hair."

"Yes, a few months ago."

"It's nice."

"Thank you."

I glanced toward the blue flames flickering in the fireplace. "Everything I say is confidential, right?"

"That's correct." I heard the scratch of quill on parchment. "I see that you're staring into the flames. Is there something you'd like to tell me in a state of dissociation?"

"Yes."

"Very well, you have both feet flat on the floor. Allow your breathing to fall into a natural rhythm, slow and deep. Let your muscles relax and your tension fade."

Transfixed by the blue flames, I became so relaxed that my eyes closed.

"Tonks?"

"Yes?"

"You are the narrator of the story of an Auror named Tonks. Tell me how this woman came to be in my office today."

I faltered during the recital of my story. Several times, the Healer reminded me that I was an objective observer, not a participant, and to pull back when I felt distressed. At the end, she said, "I want you to blink your eyes and become aware of your surroundings."

I blinked and looked from the soothing green paint on the walls to the Healer's light blue blouse.

"How do you feel?"

"Numb—angry—hopeful—depressed."

She nodded. "Grieving encompasses a wide range of complex emotions. There is no set time to experience them and move on. No tidy list of stages to work through and be finished. You will always remember a loved one." She leaned toward me. "Long after good memories allay the emotional pain, you will still be overwhelmed by loss from time to time."

I took a breath. "What about the fear?"

"What are you afraid of?"

I would have thought my eyes would have run out of tears by now. They hadn't. "I'm afraid that if Sirius doesn't come back, I'll lose everyone else too."

"Let's examine your fears," the Healer said briskly. "Did you lose your romantic partner when your cousin failed to return immediately from the veil?"

"No."

"Did you lose your parents? Your friends? Your extended family?"

"No."

"When you thought you might lose your Auror partner, what did you do?"

I remembered holding onto Jerry's sleeve. "I wouldn't let him go."

Healer Wells made a note. "Would you be less determined in other relationships?"

"No."

"Then when you feel afraid, ask yourself why you feel that way, and challenge any negative perspective."

"I can do that."

"Excellent. If you find in the future that there are unresolved issues causing emotional pain, I'll be here to talk about it."

Meaning she didn't think Sirius was coming back, and I was going to need therapy to deal with it. Everyone was entitled to their opinion. "Thanks."

On my way out of the office, I noticed a needlework sampler on the wall, mainly because the silk threads were black. They stood out against white linen. I read the words out of idle curiosity and then froze. "Who made this?"

"My mother was Muggleborn. She stitched the sampler after my father passed on in his sleep. What do you think of it?"

My eyes were drawn to the words.

**While we are mourning the loss of our friend, others are rejoicing to meet him beyond the veil.**

"It might be true," I said, fighting back tears at the thought of Lily and James embracing Sirius, "but it still sucks."

"I agree," said the Healer, closing her pad. "That sampler has hung on my wall for thirty years, and every day I have agreed with your sentiment one hundred per cent."

 

Remus was sitting in the waiting room, reading the  _Daily Prophet._ I picked up a women's magazine and waved it in front of his face. "What? You didn't want to read about boosting your metabolism?"

He arranged the paper into a tidy stack. "I have a natural metabolism booster once a month that beats any potion."

I snapped my fingers. "Hey, we could sell the Werewolf Weight-Loss Plan to the  _Quibbler_  and be rich."

"I'm afraid the side effects would cancel out any dubious cosmetic benefits."

Once we were outside, I dropped the cheery act. "Did Jul tell you I had a complete breakdown, or that I just went slightly mental?" I made a face. "If slightly mental isn't a contradiction in terms."

Remus cupped my cheek with his palm. "Only slightly."

She must have told him I lost it completely. "You told me I was doing too much too soon."

He kissed my brow. "You got help. That's what matters."

I had to ask, "Did Gulch send an owl to announce that I'm fired?"

"No, Kingsley sent a notice that you're on paid bereavement leave for the rest of the week. You can stay home and rest."

"I want to rest on a beach on the Isle of Lewis," I said, taken by the thought of sleeping in a whitewashed cottage aptly named  _Haven._ "The MacLeans are bound to have a room available during the week. Let's go home and build a communication fire to ask them."

"The rates were very affordable," Remus said, "and you did receive a substantial bonus."

"Then we'll go?"

"If the MacLeans have a room."

 

The room with the slipper bath was available.

I amused Remus by casting privacy spells, just the way I had before. Unlike our first trip to the island off the coast of Scotland, we checked into the bed and breakfast and then made our way to the standing stones of Callanish.

The setting sun bathed my love's face with soft colour, making him look even more handsome. We were simply dressed, but my multicoloured bouquet of summer roses and the warmth of Remus's smile made me feel beautiful.

There wasn't a Celtic harpist, or a celebrant to officiate. We didn't need them. It was enough to hold hands and say aloud the vows we had once recited only in our hearts.

_I, Nymphadora,_

_Do come here freely, seeking partnership._

_I come with all love, honour and sincerity,_

_wishing only to become one with him that I love._

_Always will I strive for Remus's happiness and welfare_

"Do you want to go down to the loch and toss in a stone for luck?" Remus asked after a tender kiss.

"No, I want us to go to beach beside the cottage. I arranged with Mrs. MacLean to have a picnic dinner waiting."

"When did you do that?"

I grinned. "When you were in the shower."

On the white sands of Uig, I found that the picnic basket I anticipated was resting on a blanket beside a table and chairs that I had not expected. Softly glowing illumination orbs floated above the table covered in white linen and decorated with a posy of roses and champagne resting in a silver bucket.

Combined with the sunset, only one thing could make the scene more romantic.

Remus seemed to read my mind. "May I have this dance?"

I kicked off my shoes, my pink toenails bright against the powdery sand. My gauzy white sundress swirled around our legs as I moved into his arms. It was almost like my tropical island fantasy, but better. This was real. I lifted my face for a kiss as we swayed together to a rhythm created by the waves lapping onto shore and the beating of our hearts.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote about the veil was from a Muggle named John Taylor. Healer Wells was first visited in ch 15 and 17 of Promise of a Spring Moon, and if anyone hasn't read about Tonks and Remus's first trip to the Isle of Lewis in _Butterfly Summer_ , I heartily invite you to do so. :) Along with another chapter of _From the Battered Journal of Remus J. Lupin_ , I'll be posting a transition from OotP to HBP one shot that I'd love for everyone to read. It’s _Wish Upon a Dog Star_.

**Author's Note:**

> Byron wrote: _She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies, and all that's best of dark and bright, meets in her aspect and her eyes._ I hope the first chapter shows my goal that this story will be a meeting of dark and bright, and readers will find that's best. Although this is the fourth chapter story in a series, I believe every story should stand by itself, even though there will be a few duly explained references. While saying that, if anyone who hasn’t read them goes to read prior stories I’ll be a happy writer! :)


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